Dear Miss Lonely Love
by ElvishGrrl
Summary: Elena Gilbert has a secret identity - she's the writer behind the town paper's popular "Dear Miss Lonely Love" advice column. Some of the letters she receives stand out more than others. One makes her suspicious a girl she knows might be being abused, and Elena's determined to get to the bottom of it. Another, from a guy with a broken heart, begins a unique correspondence. AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

*****DISCLAIMER*** _I do **NOT** own The Vampire Diaries or the characters associated with The Vampire Diaries. No copyright infringement intended. __The original story herein, however, belongs to me. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or any real life occurrences is entirely coincidental._**

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><p><strong>Dear Miss Lonely Love<strong>

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Mystic Falls is, for all intents and purposes, your typical Virginian small town. It can be found in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains nestled into a bend of the majestic Mystic River, about a mile downriver from the falls itself.

Like most American towns, it has a Town Hall fronted by audacious white Doric columns hung with red, white and blue bunting; the square bell tower of the Methodist Church faces off against the pointed bell tower of the Baptist Church across the street, both parking lots filled to overflowing every Sunday; the downtown is lined with false-fronted small businesses that have been there since long before anyone can remember, like the barber shop, the five and dime, the bakery and the Avalon theater; across the street, the town newspaper, _The Mystic Falls Herald,_ flies Ole' Glory proudly from each corner of its awning; and next door resides the Mystic Grill, where the townsfolk gather to eat, drink and socialize.

And a little further down on the corner, just before you'd turn onto Route 4 to drive past all the big Colonial mansions along the river's edge toward the high school, sits Gilbert's Coffee Clutch. Inside, once the last patron has left for the night, you'll usually find the owner's teenage daughter Elena Anne Gilbert hunched over her laptop, fingers flying wildly across the keyboard as she completes some assignment or another.

The citizens of Mystic Falls still do most things the old-fashioned way. Sure, modern technology has seeped in – most homes now have wide-screen televisions and computers and PlayStations. Quite a few of the residents own cell phones. But that hasn't stopped people from going about life the same way they always have. The Crow's Nest downtown still does steady business selling books and magazines, although they've added greeting cards and seasonal novelties to their shelves nowadays. The library always services a constant stream of readers. The phone inside the phone booth out front of the Grill is in good working order and gets regular use, especially on a Saturday night. And _The Herald_ still produces a daily newspaper, except on Sundays of course, which is delivered to nearly every household and business in town.

So yes, modern times have come a-knocking, but they've only been welcomed in so far. Mystic Falls is, like many rural small towns, stubborn and stuck in its ways. Change beckons, but is mostly regarded with skepticism. Or, as is often the case here, ignored completely.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Elena Gilbert was fully aware that the citizens of Mystic Falls also still wrote letters - often handwritten ones. They sent e-mails and texts and tweets, some of them, too. But a surprising number still enjoyed putting pen to paper. She would know, because she was the recipient of such personal missives each and every week.

Elena, in addition to her job pouring coffee and serving sandwiches and pastries in her father's café, was also the proud, if clandestine, author of _The Herald's_ weekly 'Dear Miss Lonely Love' column. Only one other person knew she was really Miss Lonely Love, besides her editor that is, and that was her best friend in the world, Bonnie Bennett. She knew Bonnie could keep a secret, so Elena felt safe in the knowledge that her alter-ego wouldn't be revealed.

And secret identity it was. Elena had a carefully crafted persona for Miss Lonely Love. The byline was credited to Shara Strong, and Shara Strong, though fictional, was a Grown Up. Shara Strong was definitely _not_ an eighteen year-old senior at Mystic Falls High – she was twenty-eight, with plenty of experience in the field of dating and romance before marrying the Man of Her Dreams. The regular readers of 'Dear Miss Lonely Love' were well aware Shara was neither a Miss nor Lonely; she made regular mention of how she landed her handsome, perfect husband. Elena assumed, correctly, that if her readers believed she had been so successful in love, they'd be more inclined to trust her for advice with their own concerns.

Which was ironic really, because Elena was nothing of the sort. She was, in fact, single.

She had dated, had a few boyfriends even, but never anyone serious. She thought she was still too young for real relationships, and had spent much of the past year barely thinking about boys. Concentrating on her school work and working her two jobs, not to mention taking care of her father and brother and squeezing in occasional free time with her friends – well, it didn't leave much room for dating.

Not that she had any problem with that. She didn't. She knew she needed to graduate at the top of her class in June in order to win a scholarship to a good college – and therefore escape from Mystic Falls. Falling in love would only complicate her life. And she didn't want complications.

This evening she sat at the counter, almost empty mug of hot chocolate in hand, polishing her column for Friday's paper. She had just finished advising a teenage girl, whom she strongly suspected might be a friend of her brother Jeremy, that she needed to stand up for herself to her controlling boyfriend. Elena was pretty sure Jeremy was between girlfriends right now, but this letter, which had arrived as an e-mail, caused her to make a mental note to question him about his dating status tomorrow. Just to be sure.

Once she was happy with her responses, she e-mailed the document to her editor and shut her laptop. A glance up at the hands of the clock over the door showed she still had ten minutes until she could lock up.

Sometimes, if Elena read a message she felt really deserved a response but she'd already finished her column for the week, she would take a few moments to send the writer a personal reply. So tonight with passing curiosity she pulled the top letter from the bundle in her knapsack.

The writing was small and cramped, with jagged crow-scratch vertical lines. It obviously had been written by a man. Elena was no handwriting expert, but she'd be willing to bet he was a troubled man.

_Dear Miss LL,_

_I've got a messed up situation for you. What do you do when the love of your life dumps you for your brother after you find out she's been having an affair with him behind your back? You thank your lucky stars you're free of her, right? Problem is - I can't stop thinking about her. She stabbed me through the heart, and I left town and haven't spoken to either of them since. But the sad truth is…I'm still in love with her. I'm afraid if she apologized and groveled I'd take her back. Now I'm not dumb enough to think that's ever going to happen, but my question for you is, how do I stop loving her?_

_Just Another Idiot_

Elena pursed her lips as she read the letter a second time. She had answered questions about cheating before of course, but never cheating which involved sleeping with two brothers at the same time, then breaking up with one to begin publicly dating the other. She had to agree with the writer - that was messed up indeed.

Tapping her fingernails absentmindedly against the countertop, she contemplated how to reply. She tried to imagine how she might feel if she found herself in a situation like that, and how she would want to deal with it. She tore out a fresh sheet of paper from her notebook, picked up her trusty Bic and began to write.

_Dear JAI,_

_Even though I can't include your letter in my column - sorry! - I felt compelled to send you a personal reply._

_You're absolutely right. You should just get down on your knees and thank the stars you're free of her. The problem is that reality doesn't always work that way, as you seem well aware. Love isn't something you can turn off like flicking a switch. It burrows deep inside you and holds on tight. The only thing that might help to lessen its grip on you is time, I'm sorry to say. But I think you already know that, too._

_Good on you for leaving town, though. Space and time away from the two of them is precisely what you need right now. I'd recommend you get out and meet people. It might surprise you how new friends can distract from old problems. And you should consider maybe starting to date again, even if it's just casual._

_Be strong. Someday you'll look back on all this and know it was for the best._

_Best of luck!_

_Miss LL_

Elena carefully folded her reply and tucked it into an envelope. The return address was a local post office box, which she scrawled across the front. Looking to the clock again, she noted with relief that it was finally time to head home.

She packed up her things and pulled on her heavy coat, hat and mitts before dimming the lights in the small shop. The welcome bell over the door tinkled eerily as she stepped out into the chilly night and locked it behind her.

Mystic Falls in mid-January after midnight was cold and still. The silence was so overwhelming Elena's eardrums interpreted it as a low roar, a crowd cheering off in the distance, a jet plane passing far overhead at six hundred miles an hour. The emptiness felt absolute, with just the fading echo of the bell to ground her in reality.

The crisp air was clear, marred only by the white mist of her exhalations. Her boots squeaked on the hard packed snow, and as she walked she looked up at the sky. The stars seemed to shine brighter than ever, too frigid to even twinkle.

The buildings were dark, the snow was light and the few streetlights cast long shadows in every direction. A mailbox stood on the corner, its blue paint so vivid it seemed to glow among all the monochrome. When Elena reached it, she paused for a moment to pull the letter from her pocket and slip it inside.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with ice. Then as quickly as she could she crunched along the frozen sidewalk, anxious to reach the warmth of home.

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><p>Friday morning's alarm was always unwelcome. On Thursday nights Elena had to close up her father's coffee shop late, and the resulting lack of sleep tended to make her grouchy.<p>

The crash of the alarm clock hitting the floor as her flailing hand knocked it off the nightstand only jolted her further from dreamland. With a groan she pushed back the covers, reluctantly emerging from her cozy cocoon. Half-awake, she trudged to the bathroom, pounding on her brother's bedroom door to rouse him along the way. An annoyed groan from within was her only response.

Her father had already left over an hour ago to open the shop for the before-work crowd in need of their morning fix. Every morning but Sunday it was just Elena and Jeremy, fighting over the bathroom, scrambling to scrounge up breakfast and make it down to the corner without missing the school bus.

This morning, wonder of wonders, they both sat at the kitchen table at the same time, Elena with toast and peanut butter in one hand and a mug of green tea in the other, Jeremy pouring himself an enormous bowl of half Raisin Bran, half Fruit Loops. He claimed it gave him the protein and energy he needed to get going - he was on the basketball team. Elena just rolled her eyes and silently worried he'd become diabetic if he didn't watch it.

An e-mail from her editor reminded her of the last letter she'd included in her column the night before.

"Hey Jer?"

With barely a glance her way he shoved a heaping spoonful into his mouth. "Mmm?"

"You seeing anyone these days?"

His eyes widened, and he flushed as he swallowed. "Um, no. Not right now. Why?"

Elena shrugged. "Just curious. It's been a few months since you split with Anna. I wondered if you and Vickie might be…"

"No! I mean, we're friends, and she's hot and all…but she's seeing Tyler Lockwood."

She screwed up her face at the mention of Tyler's name. "Ugh."

"Yeah."

Now Elena was more suspicious than ever that the e-mail might have come from Vickie Donovan. Tyler was the captain of both the football and basketball teams and, in her opinion, a complete alpha male douche. His ego was nearly as big as his father's. Richard Lockwood was the mayor of Mystic Falls. The Lockwoods had been one of the original families to settle in this area. So had the Gilberts actually, but that might be the only thing the two families had in common. Grayson Gilbert was content to live a quiet life, and though his shop was moderately successful, Elena knew some months they barely scraped by. The Lockwoods had money and power – lots of it. They lived in the largest of the riverfront mansions along Route Four, with multiple acres of both beautifully landscaped and heavily wooded property behind. They were famous for hosting lavish parties; their Fourth of July bash was an event not to be missed by anyone in town. And Founding Families were a mandatory presence at such events, which meant Elena had to endure every last one of them.

She sighed and glanced at the clock on the stove. _Crap_! "The bus is gonna be here any minute!" she exclaimed, dumping the remains of her tea into the sink.

As always, Jeremy headed straight for the back of the bus where the other members of his posse awaited him. Elena sat down beside Bonnie near the middle. She noted her brother dropped into a seat with Vickie. Tyler, of course, drove himself to school in his brand-spanking-new red SUV. If he _was_ dating Vickie, he hadn't bothered to give her a lift today.

Elena chatted with Bonnie until they pulled up out front of the gray stone and red brick castle that was Mystic Falls High. It was on the opposite side of Route 4, and the upper floor windows and turrets had a majestic view of the park and river bend across the way.

The high school had been built in 1915, at the height of the architectural castle craze that had swept across America. Now its hulking edifice seemed a little out of place; an embarrassment to be ridiculed by the students, a point of pride to the mayor and town council, and a roadside attraction to outsiders.

Elena thought it was beautiful. She had loved this building ever since she was small – years before she'd even stepped foot inside its hallowed halls. Even when she was having a truly crappy day, she only needed to trot up the stairs to the highest tower, look out the window at the view, and she would instantly feel a bit better – like something clicked inside and she understood her place in the world, just for a moment, and she felt like she was where she belonged.

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><p>It had been a busy evening, but the Clutch was finally starting to empty out as people headed over to the Grill, or home, or wherever else they needed to be on a Saturday night. Elena had just delivered a cruller and refilled the mug of her history teacher, Mr. Tanner.<p>

As she wiped the crumbs and dribbles from a recently deserted table, she glanced over at the boy sitting in the back corner. Well…he really wasn't a boy, was he? He was pale and slim, with dark hair mostly hidden under a black Greek fisherman's cap. He wore tinted glasses and, as usual, had his nose buried in a book. As usual because, although Elena had no idea who he was, she realized he'd been in her shop before. Several times. Always when she's been too busy with customers to really pay him much notice. She remembered he wore those glasses, that cap, and his black pea coat, and always ordered a cup of coffee, also black. He carried his own stainless steel travel mug, so had no need for one of the red Gilbert's Coffee Clutch cups.

"Excuse me, Elena?"

She started, jolted from her thoughts, and turned to the elderly woman who sat at a side table with her husband, as they did nearly every Saturday evening.

"Yes, Mrs. Clancy? Can I top you up?"

"No, thank you. I just wanted to tell you, you look lovely in that shade of blue."

Mr. Clancy nodded in agreement, before returning his attention to his wife and giving her a smile. They had told Elena a few weeks ago they'd been married for forty-eight years.

Getting to his feet, Mr. Clancy helped Mrs. Clancy up and held out her coat for her to ease her arms into. They had matching down jackets with big fur-trimmed hoods. Perfect for a chilly January night.

"Thank you. Be careful on the icy sidewalks," she advised as they said goodnight.

Soon Mr. Tanner, too, left his money on the counter and headed out into the cold. Fifteen minutes later no one remained but her and the dark, handsome stranger.

Elena sucked in a breath, straightened her spine and walked back to him.

"Warm you up?" she asked, pot of coffee extended expectantly.

He looked up at her and lowered his glasses, and Elena's breath caught in her throat. He had the most incredible pair of clear blue eyes she'd ever seen. In the harsh artificial light of the shop they appeared almost aqua really, with a thin dark rim around the outer edge of the irises. Long black lashes framed those mesmerizing eyes. And right now they were staring at her inquisitively.

'-in mind?"

Crap. She'd missed most of that, lollygagging at the pretty. Heat flooded her cheeks. "Pardon?"

"I said, 'depends what you had in mind,_'_" he replied with a smirk. She flushed deeper as she realized the double entendre of what she'd asked. _Warm you up._ Oh God.

"More c-coffee?" she stuttered. _Get a grip, Elena. You left yourself wide open for that one_.

"No thanks." He flashed her a smile. "I should probably head out. Aren't you about ready to close up?"

His smile was as striking as the rest of him, and the sight of it made Elena's embarrassment ease up a bit. She wondered how old he was. She was sure she'd have remembered if she'd seen him at the high school. No, he was definitely not a teenager. But not by a lot. "We're open 'til midnight Thursday to Saturday," she told him. "I have to stay, even if there's no one else here."

"That sucks. Don't you get bored?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I usually do homework or read or something. I never have any problem passing the time."

He looked her up and down and her temperature shot up again. "You're in high school…" He paused to check out her name tag. "Elena?"

"For a few more months," she admitted.

One black brow arched thoughtfully. "Huh. I pegged you for older."

"I'm eighteen. Why? How old are you?"

His eyes narrowed for a split second, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. Then that easy grin returned. "Twenty-two. Just moved to town a few weeks ago."

"Welcome to Mystic Falls. What brings you to our quaint little burg?" She sat down opposite him. Why not? There were no other customers around to serve.

He sighed, so softly she almost didn't hear it. "That's a long story I'd rather not relive right now. My uncle owns a former boarding house way down Route 4 just outside of town. I'm staying with him at the moment."

Elena's eyes lit up. "Oh! Your uncle is Zach Salvatore! I know him – he comes in here sometimes."

"Yep." His gaze shifted down to the book resting on the Formica.

"What're you reading?" She reached to flip it so she could see the cover. "_The Great Gatsby_? I'm reading that for English right now! Well, I actually got so into it I couldn't put it down and finished it in two days, but I'm re-reading at the pace we're supposed to be at. Have you read it before?"

He pressed his lips together a bit self-consciously. "Eleven times," he confessed, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a small half-smile.

Elena's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Wow. Maybe I should get you to help me with the four thousand word essay I have to write on it then," she said with a teasing grin.

"Maybe," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the hard plastic chair. Tucking the book away inside his jacket, he stood up abruptly. "I've gotta get going. Thanks for the coffee and conversation."

She wondered if she'd said something wrong. They'd seemed to be getting along fine, but now he looked like he wanted to be any place but here. Scrambling to her feet as well, she amended, "You don't actually have to help me. I was just kidding."

Their eyes met as he adjusted his cap, for a moment revealing more of that thick messy hair. A waft of cologne hit her as they stood in such close proximity, and hot desire clenched low in her belly.

"I don't mind if you wanna talk over your essay. As you might've guessed, it's one of my favorite novels. Maybe I'll see you in here next week. Have a good rest of your night, Elena."

She didn't reply at first, frozen in thought as she watched him walk away.

Just as he reached the door she cried, "Wait!" He glanced back. "I don't even know your name." Her voice came out sounding much younger than her eighteen years.

With a tight smile, he replied, "It's Damon."

Then he slipped out into the night.

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><p><em><strong>AN** Yes, I'm back with something new. No, it's not the sequel to TSM. Not yet, but that will come later. I just needed a bit of a break from those characters, but I will write them again. Please let me know your thoughts by leaving me a review in the little box below. You don't have to have a FF account to leave a review - anyone can do it. :) Thank you so much!_

_Special thanks to LoveDE for betain, and to Anglcdmn1986 and scarlett2112 for pre-reading and giving me advice. Love you guys._

_If you want to, you can follow me on tumblr or ask under: elvishgrrl_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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><p>When Zach handed him the letter as he sat reading in the drawing room on Tuesday afternoon, Damon was surprised, to say the least. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten an actual letter from someone. It might have been back in high school when that crazy Amber chick had a mad crush on him. He vaguely recalled her sometimes mailing him stuff in pointless and increasingly desperate attempts to get noticed.<p>

This envelope was not decorated with hearts and kisses like those ones had been. It was plain white and business-y looking. The handwriting on the front, however, was looped and swirled - definitely written by a woman. It was addressed to _JAI_, at Zach's P.O. Box.

"How d'ya know it's for me?" he wondered as his uncle poked at the dying embers in the fireplace. The boarding house was huge, rambling and, like pretty much every other building around here, old. It was next to impossible to keep warm, so at this time of year it was necessary to keep a fire burning in the fireplace of any room you intended to spend any length of time in.

"Sure not meant for me," Zach stated flatly, straightening up and hanging the iron poker on its hook. He turned back to Damon. "You talk to your dad yet?"

Stiffening, Damon muttered, "Nope."

"Stefan?"

"Nope."

Zach sighed. "Well at least they know you're here and didn't run off and do something stupid. Any idea how long you might stay for?"

Their eyes met. Damon's blue irises were stony. "Does it matter? Just tell me when you're sick of me and I'll split."

Another sigh. "You're my brother's kid. I'm not going to kick you to the curb, Damon. You're welcome here as long as you want."

Damon shrugged. "Don't know yet. But you'll be the first to know when I'm moving on."

His uncle snorted. "Thanks for that much, I guess. I'm heading to the Grill to pick up hot wings for dinner. You want?"

"Sounds good," Damon replied absently, his attention turned back to the letter in his hand. He heard Zach's footsteps cross the hardwood as he left, but didn't look back up.

Tearing open the envelope, he roughly pulled out the letter within, earning himself a paper cut for his efforts. Two smudges of blood now stained the white paper above the words, '_Dear JAI'_.

Reading it over quickly, random phrases popped out at him:

'_You're absolutely right."_

'_reality doesn't always work that way'_

'_burrows deep inside you and holds on tight.'_

'_time away from the two of them is precisely what you need'_

'_consider maybe starting to date again'_

With a groan he stood up, meaning to toss the letter into the fireplace. Dating? Yeah, right. Like he wanted to throw himself into _that_ volcano again. Relationships just weren't for him. Dating wasn't gonna happen. Never again.

And it was all just pat advice, wasn't it? Nothing of any use to him. But then again, why did he even think it would be? It was pointless. His question was the most inane, the most unanswerable question in the world. _How do you stop loving someone?_ Ridiculous. Like he'd told himself at least fifty times before he'd dropped it into the mailbox - he shouldn't even bother.

Damon crushed the page to a jagged white ball. The red bloodstain and the scrawled blue letters '_De_' glared up at him accusingly.

Instead of fueling the fire with it, he dropped back to the couch and pulled the letter open again, flattening it over the tabletop with his hand, the formerly smooth surface now rough below his palm. It brought to mind a phrase from a book he'd read long ago: _A heart is like a piece of paper__ -__ once it's __crumpled__ or torn it can never return to how it once was._

_So _the bitch had left permanent scars – so what? What did it fucking matter? She was happy back home with his brother, and he was sitting here miserable in Mystic Falls. How was that fair?

Then Damon's eyes fell on something else Miss Lonely Love had advised.

'_It might surprise you how new friends can distract from old problems.'_

An image of the cute brunette with the big brown eyes from the coffee shop suddenly popped into his head, and he smiled thinly to himself. Maybe later he'd brave the cold in search of a caffeine fix.

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><p>School buses always seem to smell of a pungent blend of diesel exhaust, old vinyl, and stale sweat. It's a universally accepted fact. Today's potpourri of unpleasantness also included a vague hint of weed wafting up from the rear, and the rancid, yet sickly sweet odor of a decaying apple rolling around beneath the seats. Elena tried to remember to breathe through her mouth.<p>

During the ride home she couldn't resist sliding what she hoped were surreptitious glances behind her at Vickie Donovan. Vickie sat in the very back seat with Jeremy again, whispering and giggling, their heads close together. Elena wondered what Tyler would think if he could see them right now. She assumed he would not be impressed - he was known to be possessive with his 'toys'.

Snow-shrouded houses slid past her window as she forced herself to look outside instead. Her mind was troubled. Elena had been the first one inside the girls change room before Gym this afternoon, third period History having been dismissed a few minutes early for once. As she'd come around a wall of lockers, she'd startled a half-dressed Vickie, the last straggler of the juniors who'd been filing out after the previous class.

Although the other girl was quick to pull up her jeans and throw on her hoodie, it hadn't been fast enough to prevent Elena from noticing the bruises on the inside of her upper arm. Small round ones - the kind that could have been made by squeezing fingers.

Elena had stopped in her tracks, too shocked to speak.

Avoiding meeting her eyes, Vickie had muttered, "Hey," before scrambling past her for the door.

Those marks had been weighing on Elena ever since. Could Vickie really be the girl who wrote that letter to Miss Lonely Love last week? Could Tyler be getting too rough with her behind closed doors? Elena didn't know for sure, but her gut kept insisting something wasn't right.

She stared outside, but she wasn't even aware the bus was nearing her stop. She kept seeing that ugly purplish-yellow row of spots on Vickie's arm. And the larger patches she'd glimpsed on her inner thighs.

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><p>The late afternoon sunlight was starting to fade as Elena sat on her bed with Bonnie, discussing the differences between Gatsby and Nick. Bonnie thought Gatsby was romantic and mysterious, while Nick was too much of a boring buzz-kill. Elena argued that Gatsby was so fixated on his idealized image of 'the one who got away' that it doomed him to repeat the mistakes of his past.<p>

Once they put their English homework aside, Elena leaned back against her pillows. "Hey, so did you read my column this weekend?"

"I always do. Why?"

"Remember the letter from the girl about her asshole boyfriend?"

Wrinkling her forehead, Bonnie replied, "Um, I think so. He was a controlling dick, right?"

"Yep. So, this might sound strange but…I've been wondering whether it could be from Vickie Donovan."

Bonnie scrunched her face in thought. "She's seeing Tyler these days, isn't she?"

Elena nodded.

"Hmm. Could be. I heard he treated Amber pretty shitty last year. I could see it."

Though there was no one else in the house to overhear, Elena dropped her voice to a whisper. "I ran into Vickie in the change room before gym today, and she had bruises on her arm. It might be nothing, but…"

"But it might be something," Bonnie said, narrowing her eyes with concern.

Elena didn't mention the other bruises she'd seen, the darker, uglier ones lower down. For all she knew, maybe Vickie liked things a little rough in bed. And if so, that was no one's business but her and her partner. She just sighed, "Yeah."

Bonnie began to gather up her books and binders, stuffing them one by one into her knapsack. It was getting dark and her grandmother would be expecting her home for dinner soon. Then she stopped and looked back at Elena. "What about telling Jeremy what you saw? He's friends with her – he might know how she hurt her arm."

Bonnie had a good point. But Elena was beginning to wonder if her brother was harboring a bit of a crush on Vickie. If he found out she'd been hurt, he might confront Tyler about it - which would more than likely end up getting ugly. Elena didn't really want to escalate things unless she found more evidence to support her fears.

"That's true. But I don't think I'll mention the bruises. I'll just ask if she said anything about injuring herself. It's possible it could be no big deal. If I tell Jer my suspicions, and he says something to Vickie or Tyler, and it turns out I'm wrong…well that would just be unpleasant for all of us."

"But if Tyler's hurting her, he needs to be stopped, 'Lena."

"I know. And I totally agree. But I think we need more information before we go jumping to any conclusions. First, let me try to find out what Jer knows."

"Okay. I really hope it's nothing."

"So do I."

* * *

><p>Tuesday nights were never very busy at the shop, and this cold, blustery Tuesday night was even deader than usual. Elena had finished all her cleaning a while ago, and now sat behind the counter sipping hot chocolate and reading tonight's assigned chapter of F. Scott Fitzgerald's most famous story.<p>

The jingling of the bell over the door jarred her away from the lavish room at the Plaza where Gatsby and Tom were embroiled in their tense confrontation. She glanced up in annoyance, hoping whoever it was just wanted a coffee to go.

Elena's eyes flared, a smile chasing away her irritation as she saw the familiar black cap and pea coat come inside. Damon. She was surprised to see him back so soon; it had only been three nights since they'd talked. The thought that he was probably here specifically to see her this time sent nervous tingles through her body.

"Hi," she greeted him, slipping her bookmark between the pages and standing up as he approached the counter. Damon's face was glasses-free tonight and his blue eyes stood out like neon signs. Those eyes were dangerous as hell – they probably melted the panties off every woman he ever met.

_Pull yourself together, loser, _she mentally scolded. As professionally as possible, she asked, "Dark roast, black, right?"

He chuckled. "I'm impressed you remember."

Flushing, Elena turned to the row of coffee machines behind her, lifting the only remaining pot and peering inside dubiously. As she swirled it around the dark liquid oozed viscous fingers down the inside of the glass.

"I'll have to make a fresh pot. This stuff's sludge." Looking over her shoulder at him, she flashed a tight grin. "Hope you're not in a rush." What she really hoped was that he'd keep her company for a while. She closed up at ten, which was still another hour away.

"No problem. I'd rather it be fresh anyway."

She rinsed out the pot, then measured and poured pungent coffee grounds into the top of the machine, setting the switch to brew. When she turned around, she found Damon perched on a stool directly across from her, her novel in his hands. His cap now rested on the counter beside her mug of cooling chocolate, and he was combing his fingers through his hair to unflatten it. Elena had a strange urge to reach over and mess it up further. She wondered if that thick hair would feel as soft as it looked.

He opened the book to where she'd left off and scanned the page. "Ah," he observed with a quirk of his lips. "Things are starting to heat up."

She had to agree. "That scene is so tense!"

Damon chuckled, tucking her bookmark back inside. "So when's your essay due?"

"Um, a week from Friday. We have to finish the last two chapters this week, then pick a theme and write an essay about it." She raised her mug to her lips. Lukewarm chocolate was still miles better than no chocolate at all.

When she set it back down, he reached for it and took a sniff. "No wonder the coffee was old. Even you're not drinking it!"

Self-consciously brushing a strand of hair off her face, she admitted, "Actually…funny story, but…I don't drink coffee."

Damon's eyes widened and a massive grin surfaced. "You work in a coffee shop and you don't drink coffee?" He began to laugh.

"I work in _my dad's_ coffee shop and I don't drink coffee," she clarified, chuckling along with him.

"That explains why you're here all the time. You have no choice."

Elena's laughter stuttered to a halt. _You have no choice_. It was true. Sort of. But he didn't know the whole of it, and she didn't intend to tell him. She wanted to be here. She wanted to pitch in any way she could. "My brother helps out sometimes. And if we're really stuck, my friend Bonnie will fill in. But Dad mostly tries to keep things in the family. It's simpler." She deliberately left out the fact that she didn't get paid for these shifts, that she just did whatever she could to help make ends meet since her mom had passed away. The Gilbert's financial struggles were nobody's business but their own.

"Family business. I get that. My dad runs a law firm in Richmond. I was expected to go to law school." Damon rolled his eyes. "My brother's at U. of V., following in the old man's footsteps. And I'm…well…here. Letting dear old Pops down, as usual."

A _ping_ behind her startled Elena before she could respond, letting her know the fresh pot of coffee was ready. She bent down to retrieve a clean mug from a lower shelf.

"No need," Damon reminded her. "You can just pour it in here. One less dish to wash that way." He put his silver travel mug on the counter beside his cap and twisted off the lid.

Her cheeks got hot again. Right. His travel mug. "Sorry, I forgot," she mumbled, picking up the bubbling carafe to fill it. Now, what had they been talking about? Oh right.

"So you don't want to be a lawyer. So what? Most lawyers are egotistical, manipulative asses." That earned her a tight smile. Encouraged, she continued. "Did you go to college?"

"Not yet." Damon blew on the surface of the steaming liquid before taking a tentative sip. "I want to go to teacher's college at some point. Once I figure some shit out and get my life back on track, that is."

Elena took another swig of her chocolate. It was cold now. She upended the mug to swallow the last of it.

"Your dad doesn't approve of you taking some time out in Mystic Falls, I gather?"

He shrugged. "No clue. I haven't spoken to him since I left. Doubt it."

"What about your mom? Does she support you?"

Damon went still, his gaze now fixated on a spot on the countertop. For a moment or two she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he replied softly, "She would, if she was around. She died when I was twelve."

A flood of empathy came over Elena. She remembered far too well her own mother's final months, days, moments. Sometimes she wished she could forget. Her reply was barely more than a whisper. "So did mine. Two years ago."

Those intense blue eyes lifted to hers. They were full of understanding. "I'm sorry."

She waved his words away, as usual trying to pretend like it was no big deal, trying to brush it off like she always did to those who offered sympathy. But she stopped herself. Maybe this time she didn't need to pretend. Damon _knew_, after all.

"Cancer," she stated with a small sigh.

"Ah. That sucks."

He didn't offer his own mother's cause of death and she didn't ask. She just said, "Back atcha."

They sat in silence for a bit. It wasn't an awkward silence though; it was companionable. Easy, even. Elena had never talked about her mom's death with anyone who had lost their own mother. She found herself feeling suddenly closer to Damon - which was crazy, because she didn't even know him. But she realized she wanted to.

They ended up discussing favorite books for the last thirty minutes of her shift. No further mention was made of disappointed fathers or dead mothers. He waited until she wiped down the coffee machine and dimmed the lights, then followed her to the door.

The snow was coming down harder than ever, fat flakes driven in sheets by each gust of wind coming down off the mountains to the northwest. Elena shivered as she locked up, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck.

"Well, goodnight then," she said, looking up at Damon. Snowflakes were melting on his already reddened cheeks, and he tugged the brim of his cap lower.

"How're you getting home?" he wondered.

She glanced down the blustery street in the direction she was headed. "Um…I walk. It's not that far."

His eyes widened as he took another look around them. The light coming off the nearest streetlight was no more than an otherworldly halo through the blowing snow. "It's not a fit night for man nor beast. Let me give you a lift."

She hesitated, and she knew he saw her reluctance.

"C'mon. I promise you I'm not a serial killer. Would you seriously rather walk home in this than get into a vehicle with me?" Damon added a wink and a smile, clearly determined to disarm any fears she might be harboring.

Elena couldn't help but laugh. "Wouldn't a serial killer say exactly that to charm me into his car?"

"Probably. But I don't drive a car; I drive a Jeep. Which is parked over there buried under what looks like half a foot of snow." He gestured toward a white-shrouded SUV across the way. "How handy are you with a snow brush?"

She snorted. "I've spent eighteen winters in Mystic Falls. I think I can handle it."

"Great," he grinned. "Let's go."

He pushed the snow off the driver's door with gloved hands before unlocking it. Reaching behind the seat, he retrieved two long brushes with bright red bristles. Each had matching plastic scrapers at the opposite end.

"I just happen to have two in here. Catch!" Damon tossed a snow brush her way.

She reached up in surprise but was too slow; it flew over her shoulder and landed in the slushy street behind her. Embarrassed, she scrambled to retrieve it.

"Nice reflexes," he teased, leaning inside to start the engine. "Why don't you climb on in and I'll take care of the de-entombing?"

Elena went around to the passenger side and pulled open the door. But instead of getting inside, she just tossed her knapsack onto the seat. She wasn't some wimpy girly-girl, and she certainly didn't want Damon to think she required coddling.

With the first sweep of her brush along the roof she accidentally flicked snow into his face. Before she could apologize, she heard him laugh from the other side of the Jeep.

"Two can play that game," he warned before a volley of cold and wet flew her way. Elena had just time to duck. Most of it landed on her blue knit hat, although a few icy sprinkles caught her left temple.

The resulting chaos, thereafter referred to as the First Great Snow War of 2014, ended with a mostly cleaned off Jeep and two damp, snow-covered and laughing occupants. Damon was the one to finally call a cease-fire, and, as Elena was quick to point out, it looked like he had taken the brunt of it. His coat and hat were made of thick wool, and snow stuck to nearly every inch of both.

"Just admit I win then," she challenged, lifting her snow brush high in triumph.

He shook his head, bits of snow flying from his hair, and chuckled softly. "Fine! You win. Just get inside. It's plenty warm now. Let me throw something down so my seats don't get soaked." He pulled a tartan blanket off the backseat and spread it across the two front ones.

Once they were both inside, Damon turned to her, one brow raised questioningly. "So?"

Her brows drew together. "So…what?"

He shook his head, smirking at her. "Did you get hit too hard in the head with a snowball? Where do you _live_, Elena?"

Luckily she was sure her cheeks were already glowing from the exertion of battle. "Oh, right. Maple Street. Just turn right at the corner there onto Juniper, then go down two blocks and take a left and that's Maple. It's really not far. I walk home every night."

Though the streets weren't yet plowed, the Jeep had four-wheel drive and made it to her place with little problem. The Gilbert home was a small white bungalow, its outline barely visible through all the camouflaging snow. Jeremy's bedroom window glowed, and the welcome light over the front door awaited her return.

"Thanks for the lift, Damon," she said, picking her knapsack off the floor.

He offered a tight half-grin. "Don't mention it."

"Well, see you." She put her hand on the door handle, meaning to head inside.

"We didn't talk about your essay subject," he said suddenly.

Elena looked back at him. "Oh right. It's okay. You don't have to-"

"I'll drop in to visit again in a few nights, and if you're not too busy we can discuss it then." Damon's voice was firm.

"Um, okay. Sounds good. Drive safe."

As she opened the door and stepped out into the calf-deep snow, she looked back at him and he was still watching her. That quivering sensation in her chest started up again.

"Goodnight, Elena," he said softly.

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p>When Damon got back to the boarding house, he felt antsy. Instead of heading upstairs to his room to read, he went down the hallway to the small gym in the back and jumped on the treadmill for twenty minutes. It took him a while to figure out where all this energy had come from. Then it hit him that he was happy. Happy. He snorted, shaking his head in amazement. How fucking long had it been since he'd felt happy? So long the emotion seemed nearly foreign. Apparently a chat about dead mothers and a snow fight with a cute girl had done the trick, though. Who would have thought? Oh, wait. Miss Lonely Love, that's who. He hadn't laughed so much since…well, since Katherine, back when things had still been good.<p>

After a long hot shower, he stretched across his bed with the letter he'd received earlier, once again smoothing the crinkles flat beneath his palm. In the corner the fire crackled and spit behind the grate, sounds that made him feel warmer just in hearing them. He'd enjoyed spending time with Elena, and he thought about how chipper and full of energy he'd been when he'd come in, at least before memories of Katherine had elbowed their way back to the forefront.

Hanging out with Elena, goofing around with her - he'd felt so much lighter, even if it had only lasted a couple of hours. It seemed the love advice sage was right about the benefits of making a new friend. Elena was a great distraction. And it didn't hurt that when she smiled at him he felt compelled to smile back.

On impulse Damon reached to the nightstand and grabbed his silver Cross pen– a gift from his father when he'd graduated high school, no doubt intended to flourish his signature on countless wealth-producing official documents – and his journal, pressing it open to a fresh page. Pushing his glasses higher on his nose, he began to write.

_Dear Miss LL,_

_First off, thank you for taking the time to reply. Much appreciated._

_Secondly, although I was initially skeptical of your advice to get out and meet new people, tonight I decided to give it a shot. And lo and behold, you were actually right. I met a girl. We talked, we laughed…I had fun. And I haven't had 'fun' in a very long time._

_As for your suggestion that I consider dating again, well, that's where I'm going to have to draw the line. No more relationships. No more emotional attachments. To anyone. My ex was the last, for me. I refuse to put myself through that any more. It's not just worth it._

_I'm not writing this to ask for any more advice. I have no more questions for you. I just wanted to say thanks._

_JAI_

Damon re-read what he'd written, hoped she could decipher his even messier than usual scrawl, and then tore out the page. He'd mail it in the morning. A wave of exhaustion had come over him, although it was barely even midnight and he was normally a night owl.

Contrary to most nights these days, he fell into an easy sleep. His dreams were haunted by beautiful women with long chestnut hair and big brown eyes, one the she-devil who'd ripped out his heart, the other a smiling angel with snow dusting her lashes.

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><p><em><strong>AN** Massive thank you to all of you who have reviewed and favourited this story already. I really appreciate it! Extra thanks to LoveDE for proofreading and Scarlett2112 for pre-reading and giving advice. Pretty please leave me a review? Every one means a lot to me! Happy Sunday! xo_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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><p><em>Ten Years Ago -<br>_

"Damon!"

He pauses with his fingers on the door handle, twisting his head to look up at her. She looks tired, but her shoulders are straight and she holds herself tall.

"Don't forget to swing by the pharmacy on your way home." Her voice is low and rough. She stifles a cough against her shirtsleeve.

He nods. "I will, Mom."

A groan is heard from upstairs. "Mommy! I need yoooooouuu…"

"Just a minute, baby. I'll be right up," she calls. Her shiny black hair glows in a beam of sunlight through the window. As she turns back to her older son her narrow form is backlit, giving her an otherworldly halo. "I can't go myself 'cause your brother's sick, and your father will be in court all day." She puts a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes, blue as a cloudless summer day, smile warmly down at him. Even in her current frail state, she is beautiful, he thinks.

"I need you to be a good boy and pick up my inhaler for me."

"I promise," he assures her, pushing his glasses up on his nose and giving her a bright grin.

She drops a kiss to his cheek and presses him out the door into the bright May morning. Her lips are rough and dry, like sandpaper on his skin.

He has no idea it is the last time he will feel her touch.

Damon runs most of the way to school, nearly the entire eight blocks. He runs partly because he knows he was a few minutes late leaving his house, but mostly because he is hoping to make it inside the school doors before he is spotted by _them_.

The big boys. The Three Stooges, as he calls them in his head (he and his mom used to sometimes watch old movies in the afternoons when a young Stefan was napping.) Their real names are Mike, Scotty and Connor. They are in the eighth grade, two years older and several sizes bigger than Damon, who is scrawny for his twelve years. He's not sure why he's their current target. Maybe it's because his clothes are nicer than theirs. Maybe it's because he wears glasses and spends more time in the library than on the baseball diamond. Who knows? Bullies prey on the weak. And they've decided he's weak, and therefore deserving of their abuse.

It started about a month ago. Mike Rainier had been leaning against the brick wall when Damon came out a side door of the school - the door closest to the library. He'd stayed a bit late to help the librarian catalogue and shelve all the new paperbacks that had just come in. It also didn't hurt that Miss French had pale blonde hair, a cheerful smile, and smelled like strawberries. Whenever she needed a hand he was always quick to volunteer.

As he'd stepped outside, something had hit him hard in the shin and he'd fallen face-first onto the asphalt, scraping up his chin in the process. At the sound of laughter he'd looked up into Mike's beady brown eyes. The larger boy's mouth chuckled, but the rest of his face scowled.

"Doofus," Mike had sneered, glaring down at him, silently challenging him to try and retaliate.

Damon's chin had hurt like crazy, and when he'd swiped at it, a smear of red came away on his dirt-encrusted fingers. His throat knotted up dreadfully at the sight of the blood, and baby tears rose in his eyes. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to hold them in, knowing they would only make things a hundred times worse.

When he'd tripped, his knapsack had flown nearly ten feet across the pavement. Mike walked over to it and gave it a kick, sending it skittering off to rest against the fence. Without looking back, he'd stuffed his hands in his pockets and sauntered away. Damon had slowly gotten to his feet and collected his bag. He'd pressed a tissue to his bloody chin and stumbled home, shameful teardrops burning his cheeks.

Then Mike and his friends started to follow him home some nights. If Damon wasn't fast enough or smart enough and they caught him, the results were always humiliating. And painful. He'd come home with bruised ribs, aching shoulder blades, sometimes torn out knees in his jeans. If they caught even a glimmer of a tear, the abuse would ratchet up about five notches.

"Boo hoo hoo. The baby's gonna cry," Connor would tease.

Next Scotty would chime in. "Hey Four Eyes, you gonna blubber? Maybe my fist in your face would shut you up."

"Don't wet your pants, Sissy Boy. Your momma might get mad."

Then they'd start to kick and punch and shove.

They are smart enough to not leave visible marks though, save for the scab on his chin after the first time Mike tripped him. And they know Damon has never squealed. He's fully aware of what happens to kids who tattle. Terrible things. Much worse things than he's had to endure so far. He's heard the stories, and he's young, so he believes them.

Damon swears to himself that if he just makes it through the remaining weeks of sixth grade alive, he's going to sign up for karate lessons this summer. Maybe ju-jitsu, too. Anything to help defend himself come fall. Sure, those three thugs will have hopefully graduated to high school by then, but who knows which other bullies might take their place? Stefan might even want to take a martial arts class with him. Though he's three years younger, it could be a fun thing for the two of them to do together, and some day his baby brother might find himself in a similar situation. Damon shudders at the thought – Stefan is even scrawnier than he is, and his lungs suck for running. He makes a mental note to ask Mom about it when he gets home.

At lunch he gobbles his sandwich down, then heads straight for the library to pass the rest of the recess. The Stooges never set foot inside the library unless they have to, so he considers it his safe place.

Miss French is up on the sliding ladder putting away books on one of the higher shelves. She's wearing a blue and white dress that stops just above her knees. Seeing the long muscles on the backs of her calves stretching on that ladder makes Damon feel tingles and twitches in certain places. Since she hasn't noticed him yet, he hurries to the other side of the library, grabs a book at random and drops into a chair, pulling himself right up to the table so the evidence of his discomfort is hidden. His cheeks are hot, his palms damp, as he looks down at the book he's taken. It's _The Giving Tree_. He sighs. _Great_, he thinks. Real appropriate for a twelve year-old boy who's read over half the books in this library. He reads it anyway.

When the final buzzer goes at three, Damon lingers packing his knapsack. At last he shoulders it and steps outside, glancing around carefully for any signs of trouble. The coast seems clear. He breathes a tentative sigh of relief as he leaves the schoolyard.

After a block he makes a detour, turning left on Washington Street instead of continuing straight, heading for the drug store as his mother had requested. She has asthma, and this spring her allergies have been making her attacks more frequent. About a month ago she'd even been hospitalized for a couple days. Stefan inherited it from her, but his is nowhere near as severe – at least not at this point in his young life. Mostly he just uses his inhaler when he has an allergy attack, or he runs around too much and his lungs rebel.

Damon isn't hurrying. Now that he's away from school and off his usual route he walks at a leisurely pace. His thoughts drift to Miss French's flexing calves as she reaches to place a book on the shelf above her. In his mind he sees the lower edge of her dress flutter against the smooth skin above the backs of her knees. Suddenly his jeans feel too tight again, but this time he doesn't mind all that much. It's happened before, and he isn't embarrassed by it if he's alone.

He's too caught up in daydreaming about the school librarian's fascinating legs to realize there are voices behind him until it's too late.

"Sissy Boy's not going home today."

A mocking laugh sends a shiver up Damon's spine. "Maybe he's headed to his boyfriend's house?"

This is followed by raucous hoots and hollers.

Damon looks over his shoulder and is frustrated but unsurprised to find the Stooges less than twenty feet behind him, and gaining. He shoves his other arm into the empty knapsack strap and breaks into a run, knowing if they catch him this time it will be bad. Not just bad - awful.

The boys may be big, but they can move fast when they want to. And right now they are definitely motivated. Damon hears the pounding of three pairs of feet on the pavement as they try to close the distance to him. He pushes himself harder, diving between vehicles when he reaches the intersection at Elm, dodging around a white van whose horn blast echoes through his skull as he narrowly avoids being crushed into the back end of the Volvo halted at the stop sign. Up over the curb he jumps, flying past the pharmacy with its blue neon sign, past the tantalizing smells wafting from the barbeque joint next door, past the hair salon and coffee shop. He spots a break in the cars moving parallel to him on Washington and shoots through it, feeling the rush of displaced air from a passing Hummer push him forward as he leaps onto the opposite sidewalk.

Sweat trickles down his spine as he slows, risking a glance behind him. Less than half a block back he spots Connor pointing his way, hears him shout something at the others, clearly looking for an opening to cross traffic.

Adrenaline surges through him and Damon resumes pelting down the pavement. There are more pedestrians on this side of the street. Old ladies with large handbags block his path as they examine the outdoor racks of clothing in front of The Dress Den. The hard corner of a purse jabs him in the right bicep as he passes.

Suddenly he spots the narrow laneway unobtrusively dividing that building and the laundromat next door. Without a single thought, he darts down it. It's a good thing Damon is so slim, because the way is not exactly clear going. Old half-broken crates are stacked along one side. Garbage cans, a couple abandoned mattresses and a smelly black dumpster sit further down against the other.

As he dodges to avoid stepping on an old board on the ground – the rusty nails poking up from it look sharp and probably tetanus-coated - one of his sneakers skids in a puddle of who knows what and he goes down on one knee, tearing a hole in both his new Tommy Hilfiger jeans and the skin below. The muck now coating his leg and shoes is rancid, but that's the least of his concerns. He looks frantically behind him again to check if the Stooges have caught up yet, if they saw his latest detour. With relief he sees only the open-topped rectangle of sunlight. Its glow barely penetrates the alley.

Damon drags himself to his feet and limps a few feet further into the gloom, going around the end of the dumpster and slumping to the ground on a discarded blanket. It smells of urine, and likely belongs to some homeless guy, but right now there's no one else in sight. He sits there, one knee (the cleaner one) pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around it, and gasps for breath as the sweat drips off his brow and into his eyes. He pushes up his glasses and swipes it away, but tears of pain and fear threaten to dampen them again.

His knee is bleeding. Not only does it smell like rotting garbage, but it hurts like hell. It's lucky he didn't land on the nails, but who knows what bacteria are swimming in that sludge. He hopes the scrape doesn't get infected; he's heard horror stories of what can happen to body parts if they get infected. Visions of hobbling to school on a crutch with a prosthetic lower leg pop into his mind. Would that be worse than what the Stooges will do to him if they catch him? Possibly. But possibly not.

In the distance he hears someone yelling, "I think he went this way!"

_Damn it_, he thinks with a sigh. Why must they be so persistent in their desire to beat the crap out of him today? _Just call it a day and scram already._ _God, I just want to go home_. He scrunches tighter against the concrete and prays they don't decide to explore this particular smelly passageway.

Then his stomach drops as he hears the low scuffle of someone entering the alley. With every ounce of strength he has, he pushes his entire body into the thin space between the crumbling bricks and the metal back of the dumpster. It's not much of a hiding spot – if they look around the dumpster closely they'll still spot him – but it's the best he can do.

Man, it reeks back here. Bile rises in his throat, but he fights it back down. He takes shallow breaths through his mouth.

"Any sign of him?" That sounds like Mike.

"Nope." Definitely Connor now. "I swear he disappeared before the Suds 'n Save though."

"I think you need specs, too," Mike snarks. "There's nothing down there but rats and roaches. He's too chickenshit to go that way."

"Maybe he's hidin'?" Scotty's higher pitched voice this time. Puberty hasn't deepened Scotty's tone yet, but it squawks through every now and then.

The rough brick digs into Damon's back, dirtying and probably leaving holes in his shirt, but he can't let himself care much right now. He hears shuffling step coming closer, and he stops breathing altogether.

"It's kinda dark, but I don't think he's in here. He probably saw a rat and took off."

A sharp laugh - Mike's for sure. Then silence.

Damon doesn't breathe; he doesn't move; he doesn't even blink. He begs his racing heart to quiet down. The silence stretches out and he understands they're right in front of the dumpster, looking and listening like the predators they are.

Just at the exact moment he has no choice but to open his mouth a fraction of an inch to draw in some putrid air, Mike speaks up again, masking the faint sound of his desperate inhalation. "Little faggot's not here. Let's go. This place smells like shit. Fucking baby probably ran straight out the other end and is halfway to his boyfriend's by now."

For the life of him, Damon can't understand why the Stooges equate slim, bespectacled and smart to gay, but for some reason they do. It puzzles him, but it doesn't offend him. Even at age twelve he's confident in his attraction to the fairer sex, so their insults don't hurt. Their fists, knees and feet on the other hand…

Once the sounds of the boys leaving the alleyway fade, Damon squeezes out from behind the dumpster and squats on the filthy blanket again. Frustrated, he knows he has to stay here a while longer, give them time to get on their way to wherever they've decided to head next. Possibly they're tracing the route back to his house, looking for him along some detour home he might have taken.

Sighing, he realizes that's probably exactly what they're doing. Mike is the smartest of the three, and the most determined to make Damon's life miserable. Mike will be leading them to his place. In fact, they'll probably lie in wait for him a block or two away. Especially now they're pissed off he's avoided them thus far.

His injured knee is throbbing, but he knows he has to wait – has to wait them out. Just how long exactly he has no idea. Checking the silver watch on his wrist his dad gave him for Christmas, he sees it's already after four.

Damon sits on that pissy, ripped up blanket, presses his face between his knees and closes his eyes. Inside, he's cursing the three bigger boys for their infernal need to terrorize the weak. He knows it's just the way it is, but the way it is sucks, frankly, for kids like him.

When the big hand finally gets close to the six, he thinks maybe, just maybe, it's been long enough. He edges his back up the wall until he's in a standing position and tentatively peeks out from behind the dumpster. The alleyway, and sunny sidewalk beyond, is empty.

A scurrying sound from _below_ the dumpster, however, says otherwise. He recalls Mike's taunt about rats, and suddenly finds he's able to move quickly after all. He heads for the opposite end of the laneway out to Cherry Street though, just in case.

By the time he turns onto his own street, Damon is tired, dirty, bloody, and wants nothing more than a long, hot shower. About a block away he stops in surprise when he sees an ambulance parked in front of his house. At first he doesn't notice his father's Cadillac along the curb behind it.

As he watches, the big double front doors swing open and paramedics carry out a shrouded stretcher, his father following closely. Then he sees something he's never seen before. And never wants to see again.

His dad's face streams with tears.

* * *

><p>Damon blames himself of course. He's pretty sure his dad blames him, too. He was the one who was supposed to bring her the inhaler, after all. If only he'd made it to the pharmacy and back home when he'd been supposed to. If only the Stooges hadn't picked today of all days to be strolling down Washington Street and catch him daydreaming. If only Stefan hadn't been sick and Mom could have gone to pick up it herself earlier in the day. If only…well, he could list a million 'if onlys' but none of them will change a damn thing. He loved her, and now she's gone.<p>

She collapsed just before 4:00, and somehow his little brother had managed to find the wherewithal to call 911. The paramedics got there in thirteen minutes, and his father arrived home in fourteen. But by then it was already too late. They tried unsuccessfully to revive her for another ten minutes, then called time of death at 4:24. Damon trudged in a daze up the walkway to his weeping father and brother eleven minutes after that, understanding what had happened without being told.

They bury her four days later. Standing there on the grass with his father and brother, all the rest of the mourners behind them, Damon feels like he's having an out-of-body experience, like he's nothing more than a spectre looking in, seeing, yet unseen. He inhales the dank smell of recently overturned earth mixed with the tang of sickeningly sweet flowers. It's a combination that will always remind him of death.

He wears a stiff black suit that makes his arms and legs itch every place it touches bare skin. Stefan clings to his hand like a lifeline and blubbers, snot coating his trembling upper lip. Handing him a tissue, Damon looks away – not at the rose-covered gleaming mahogany coffin in front of him, but up over the trees to the fluffy cumulus clouds scattered across the blue sky – blue as her eyes. _Just like the opening credits on 'The Simpsons'_, he thinks idly. A perfect spring day. All the rest of the world is probably outside enjoying this beautiful Saturday, oblivious to the man and two boys who have had their entire world ripped apart. It's hardly fair, really. It should be raining - thunderstorming, even. Bolts of lightning crashing down like the wrath of God, himself. How dare the sun shine while they put his mother in the ground?

Damon feels many things acutely right now: guilt and anger, isolation and sorrow. These emotions stab into him like needles. Yet his face is blank, unreadable, as if he feels nothing at all.

He does not cry.

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><p><em><strong>AN** I thought we needed a flashback to help understand Damon's character a bit better. Sorry it's so heavy, but it's important to show why he is the man he is today._

_Thank you to ALL of you who took the time to leave me reviews so far! Reviewers are the best readers an author could have. You have no idea how much each one means to me. Special thanks to LoveDE, kimbulay, Anglcdmn1986 and scarlett2112 for pre-reading and giving me advice. You guys are so loved!  
><em>

_Please let me know what you think of ch 3 by leaving a review in the little box below...it will only take a moment, and it will make me smile - isn't that worth it? haha Have a great day! _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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><p>The next morning was bright and sunny. The plows had been out before the crack of dawn clearing away the foot or so of snow that had fallen during the night, and the school buses were all running more or less on schedule. Elena was pleased to find Jeremy already at the table when she came into the kitchen to make her tea and toast.<p>

"Good morning," she greeted him as she opened the tap to fill the kettle.

He mumbled something unintelligible through a mouthful of cereal. It may or may not have been "Morning."

Popping two slices of toast into the toaster, she turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. A flash of red caught her eye as she noticed a card stuck to the front of the fridge. Curious, she reached over and tugged it out from under the eagle-shaped magnet. It was an invitation to the Lockwood's annual Valentine's Day bash a week from Saturday. Formal dress was required. Since the Gilberts were a founding family, so was their presence. She made a mental note to ask Bonnie if she could fill in at the Clutch that night.

Elena returned her attention to her brother. Rubbing her bicep through her sweater and fake-wincing a little, she said, "I bruised my arm up pretty good last night - stumbled and fell into the edge of the counter as I was cleaning."

Jeremy's eyes lifted to hers. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Just a klutz." The kettle whistled and she swiveled to unplug it and pour boiling water over her teabag. Once her toast was spread with honey, Elena sat down across from him. His cereal was nearly gone. Since he hadn't offered anything else after she'd told him about her injury, she decided to press on.

"So I ran into Vickie in the girl's change room yesterday. She seemed to be favoring the same arm I just hurt. Did she happen to say what she did to it?"

He looked at her again, clearly confused. "No. Why would she?"

"Oh you know…you guys seem close lately. I thought she might've mentioned it or something."

His eyes narrowed. "Why are you asking me this, Elena?"

With a shrug, she replied, "I just wondered." She took a sip of her tea and picked up her phone, trying to appear nonchalant. As she looked through her messages, she fleetingly wished she'd thought to ask for Damon's number so she could text him to make sure he got home safely last night. When she saw him next she'd have to remember to get his digits.

"You sure? You sure her arm was sore?" Her brother looked worried and it just further confirmed her suspicions of his growing feelings for Vickie.

While Elena might leave out some details, she wasn't going to lie to him. "Yes, I'm very sure."

"That asshole better not have…" Jeremy said it low, almost to himself. His eyes were fixed on the bottom of his now-empty bowl. Though most of the time she'd rather not know exactly what her brother was thinking, at the moment Elena wished she could read his mind.

"Jer?" His eyes lifted to hers again. "Do you think Tyler would do that? Get rough with a girl? Has it happened with others?"

Jeremy stood up abruptly and sighed. "Maybe." He shrugged. "I dunno. I've heard a few things. Can't see Vick putting up with that shit, though. She'd tell him to fuck right off if he ever tried."

"Okay," Elena said, letting the matter drop. She wasn't going to push this topic right now and risk riling him up further. He'd already given her something to go on. Tyler had left a slew of cast-offs in his three and a half years at Mystic Falls high, but the next person she thought might be worth talking to was his only serious relationship she was aware of - his ex-girlfriend Caroline.

A senior like Elena, Bonnie and Tyler, Caroline Forbes was blonde and bubbly. She was also very popular. Elena knew her well enough to say 'hey', but they didn't exactly move in the same social circles. The rich kids mostly hung out with other rich kids, which she and her friends most definitely were not. Caroline was also the head cheerleader for the second year in a row, which had made her a perfect match for the football team captain. Caroline and Tyler had dated for most of eleventh grade, but split up sometime over the past summer. Elena had no idea why; she'd never had reason to care one way or the other, so had never asked. Now she suspected it might be worthwhile to do some digging.

When Elena got onto the bus, she recounted her breakfast conversation with her brother to Bonnie in a rapid whisper, and asked her what she thought about finding out more about Caroline's former relationship with Tyler.

Bonnie agreed it couldn't hurt to ask around. She also decided to see what she could unearth about the rumors Tyler had gotten rough with Amber prior to dating Vickie. Although he was the school's Golden Boy, they figured if there was a nasty side to him someone would let something slip at some point.

Elena had English with Caroline second period, but they didn't sit near each other. When the lunch bell rang and the rest of the kids surged for the door, Elena lingered, falling into step beside the taller blonde girl near the back of the throng.

Caroline glanced at her curiously. "Hey Elena. How's things?"

"Things are…interesting."

Caroline gave her a perplexed look and Elena flushed. She decided to move things along. "Are you going to the Valentine's party at Tyler's next weekend?" she asked casually. Of course she already knew Caroline wouldn't miss it, but it was as good an opening as any.

That brought a smile and a slight eye roll. "Of course. I have to be there, same as you do."

Hoping to capitalize on the we're-both-stuck-doing-this-thing camaraderie, Elena's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Would you skip it if you could? Cause I sure would."

The other girl's grin faltered. "Spending my Saturday night at the Lockwood's having to see my ex all cozy with his new girlfriend isn't exactly my idea of a fabulous time. I'd rather be at the movies with Jessie. But I'll drag him along for an hour or two to put in my appearance, and then we'll split. It won't be so bad if I have my own arm candy." She paused, examining Elena closer. "You hate those things, don't you?"

The corner of Elena's mouth quirked up in half-smile. "Pretty much," she admitted. She glanced around to see if anyone was near enough to overhear them. At the moment no one was, so she tilted her head closer to Caroline's. "Look, I know we're not exactly BFFs, but can I ask you something?"

One perfectly shaped brow arched, but Caroline nodded.

"Was your break-up with Tyler…um…amicable? Or…?"

"Amicable? You mean like are we still friends?"

"I mean…was it…did it get…ugly? At the time?" Elena gulped and looked down at her books. "I'm sorry, Care. I know it's none of my business. I just heard some rumors…"

Caroline grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into an empty corner by a row of lockers. "You heard rumors? About things getting ugly between Ty and me? Who told you that?" Her deep blue eyes flashed, but Elena couldn't read the emotion behind them.

Elena cheeks began to burn. "No. Well, yes, but not about you and Tyler. I heard he sometimes…has a temper. With other girls. Your name never came up, honest. But you were the only one I felt like I could ask."

Whoever coined the phrase 'flattery will get you nowhere' had obviously never met Caroline Forbes. At that last sentence, her smile resurfaced and she dropped her hand from Elena's arm. Then she shrugged. "I don't know about the other skanks who've been throwing themselves at him, but between us? Sure, he has a temper, but he never got handsy with me. I've got a temper too, and Ty knew better than to ever lay a finger on me…if I didn't want him to. Our fights were rare, but explosive - and always ended in amazing make-up sex. So I wasn't complaining." The expression on her face had morphed into one of fond remembrance and Elena grew more uncomfortable. She was just about to make an excuse and head off for lunch when Caroline asked, "Who was it? Who said he got rough with them? Was it that little bitch Amber?"

Elena tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and pulled her books against her chest. "I don't know. It was just some stupid rumor. Probably started by someone who was jealous of either Tyler or the girl he was with at the time."

Caroline's laugh burst out of her like a mini-eruption in the now quiet hallway, and she clapped hand over her mouth. "Probably," she agreed, before heading off in the direction of the stairwell.

When Elena opened her locker to retrieve her bagged lunch, she realized she'd never once said that anyone had implied Tyler had gotten rough with a girl, but Caroline had jumped to that interesting and possibly telling conclusion anyway.

* * *

><p>It was another quiet night at the Coffee Clutch. On dark winter evenings the residents of Mystic Falls tended to hibernate in their own homes instead of being out and about - not that Elena could blame them. By 8:30 she was alone, with another hour and a half stretching out in front of her until she could close up. She reached into her knapsack and pulled out the small bundle of envelopes she'd picked up from her editor on her way to work earlier. Time to choose a few questions for her column.<p>

There were only five letters, plus an additional six e-mails waiting in her Miss Lonely Love Gmail inbox – a slow week for sure. Elena read them over one by one. She had selected two e-mails and one letter for her column, and two more she felt deserved a private response when she came to the last envelope in the stack. The jagged handwriting on the front looked familiar, but no return address was scrawled in the upper left corner. Curious, she tore the end from the envelope and pulled out the contents.

Elena scanned the page, realizing with surprise that it was from the same guy who'd written to her before, the one whose girlfriend had cheated on him with his brother. While she did sometimes get replies to her personal responses over e-mail, most of them also thanking her like this one, it was pretty rare to get a handwritten letter back, especially from a man. As she read it, she smiled. Folding it carefully back into its envelope, she slid it inside her bag.

She spent the next hour replying to the questions and formatting her column, then reading over what she'd written, revising a few sentences here and there before forwarding it to her editor. When it was at last time to go home, she felt accomplished, although the sound of the wind gusting against the shop windows brought with it a sense of interminable loneliness. She'd been half wishing Damon might make an appearance tonight, and a part of her she wasn't sure she was all that pleased with was disappointed he hadn't.

Later, when Elena was in her flannel jammies and snug in bed, she began re-reading the final chapter of _The Great Gatsby. _ Before she got two pages in, the thought of JAI's second letter popped into her head and she put the book down mid-sentence. With a soft sigh, she got out of bed and began to rummage around in the bottom drawer of her dresser until she found the envelope. Then she retrieved the most recent letter from the bottom of her knapsack and, sitting cross-legged on the floor, read them both over.

Normally she didn't keep Miss Lonely Love queries for very long after she'd answered them – she had neither the space nor the inclination. But something about JAI's letters were different, although she couldn't say exactly why. She hadn't written back to the second, and had no real plans to, but she didn't want to toss them out either. Instead she tucked them both into the back of an old but well-loved hardcover on her bookshelf and returned to bed.

The persistent wind rattled the small window in her room and she pulled the blankets up tighter around herself. Much as she tried to immerse her mind in the tragic conclusion of _Gatsby_, she just couldn't concentrate. Though her father was in the next room, though her best friend was only a text or call away, Elena felt very alone.

* * *

><p>Damon was day-drinking. He knew it wasn't the smartest idea in the world, but even the fire raging behind the grate in the library couldn't warm him up, and he had no inclination to leave the boarding house today. So he poured another two fingers of bourbon and listened to the wind gust under the eaves as the flames crackled in the corner.<p>

On the table beside him his phone beeped again, and he glared at it, willing it with his mind to shut the fuck up. He didn't even pick it up to see who the text was from. He already knew.

Stefan. It was always Stefan. And the words were nearly always the same.

_I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday._

_I'm worried about you, Damon._

_Please answer your phone. I need to talk to you._

It was continually one variance or another of those three. Damon never acknowledged them, but he didn't block his brother's number either. Stefan was a persistent little bugger – he'd just use someone else's phone if he had to. Probably _hers_. And frankly, Damon couldn't be bothered to make the effort.

When the beeping finally stopped, he picked up his glass from where it sat beside the offensive phone and downed the liquid within, relishing the angry burn as it coated his throat. He slammed the tumbler back onto the oak with a sigh.

"Careful with the crystal, dude. That glass is older than you are."

He looked up as his uncle came into the room. Zach held a cordless phone in his right hand and Damon eyed it with suspicion. He hadn't even heard the usually loud boarding house phone ring.

Zach walked over and held it out to him wordlessly. With another sigh, Damon set his book down beside the now-empty glass and now-silent cell phone and, grimacing, took the receiver. He knew it was either his brother or his father on the other end, and since his cell had just beeped a minute ago, all his money was on Stefan.

He didn't put it to his ear, just clutched it tightly. The plastic casing was warm – to Damon unpleasantly so.

Zach arched a brow, staring at him intently. "You gonna talk to him?"

Damon's shoulders rose in the smallest of shrugs.

His uncle gave him a tight smile. "You can't avoid it forever. You're brothers; someday you'll have to talk again. Today might as well be that day."

Damon's frown was his only response. Zach gave him an encouraging nod before leaving the room.

He stared at that damn hunk of plastic and wires in his hand for a while longer. Then, mentally bracing himself, he put it against his ear. He was nowhere near drunk enough for this conversation.

"Yeah?" he muttered, taking off his glasses and setting them atop his book.

"Damon?"

"In the flesh."

"Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for weeks! How are you?"

"Alive." And far too sober at the moment.

"Good to know." He heard his brother blow out a puff of air. "Why wouldn't you at least text me back? Tell me you're okay? Tell me to fuck off? Anything, really. I was worried about you."

Damon didn't reply. Instead he leaned over and poured more bourbon into his glass.

There was a sigh from the other end of the phone. "Okay, okay. I guess I know the answer to that. Glad you finally decided to talk to me."

"Not sure I have." He rubbed his forehead with his fingers, briefly closing his eyes.

"Ah. Well, maybe you'll just listen then. I know I fucked up, and there aren't enough words to express how sorry I am about that. I never meant to hurt you."

Damon chuckled softly. "Right."

"It's true - just hear me out. It never should have happened the way it did, and I'll regret that bit for the rest of my life, but I don't…I can't regret being with her. I just…I fell in love, Damon. Even though she was with you, and I knew you were in love with her, and that she was off-limits, I fell for her. I felt incredibly guilty for acting on something I knew would cause you so much pain, but…"

"You fell in _love_ with her? Was that before or after you started fucking her behind my back?"

The wind gusted again, nearly drowning out another sigh from Stefan. "I deserve that."

Damon took a sip of bourbon. Rolling his eyes, he said, "_So_ not what you deserve."

"It was before. We fell in love before we ever touched each other. Once it started, we agreed she needed to end things with you before we could continue. She promised she would, but she knew that conversation was gonna be ugly and painful, so she avoided it. And we just couldn't stay away from each other. And everything just got so goddamn complicated, because we both love you and didn't want to hurt you, but knew it was inevitable."

His fingers tightened on the glass and Damon had to force himself to take a deep breath and relax them. Putting it to his lips, he swallowed the rest of the liquor in one gulp, savoring the burn all the way to the pit of his stomach. It was duller than before now that his blood-alcohol level had risen a bit. Nowhere near enough though.

"Are you done?" he asked tersely.

A third sigh. Damon could just picture his brother's brow all furrowed with frustration. Stefan was only nineteen, but he could brood like no one's business. As if he had any right or reason to.

"I'm done. I just needed to tell you again how sorry I am."

"Let me sum up for you, just to make sure I've got this straight. You called to tell me you're sorry, but not all _that_ sorry, because you and Katherine are in _looove_ and intend to ride off into the sunset and have fat babies some day?" Acid dripped from every word.

Stefan sighed yet again. This conversation obviously wasn't going the way he'd hoped. Perhaps he'd thought Damon would say, _'Oh, you're love with the love of my life? Oh, well that changes everything! In that case I forgive you for stabbing me in the back and wish you a lifetime of happiness together._' Not fucking likely.

"All right, Damon. No need to be an asshole. You're not ready for forgiving and forgetting yet - I get that."

"Do you, Stef? Cause I really don't think you do."

"I do love her, more than I've ever loved anyone. And we're happy together. And I hope someday you can find it in yourself to be happy for me, just because I'm your brother and, whether you're willing to admit it or not, I know you still care."

Damon chuckled, low and completely mirthless. "Uh huh. Thanks for calling."

"Damon…"

He hung up without waiting to hear any more, fury boiling through every vein and artery. Without a single thought, he whipped the phone across the room. Luckily his aim was true and it landed on one of the wingchairs near the tall windows instead of shattering on the hardwood. His uncle would've been pissed if he'd broken the phone in a fit of rage.

His gaze landed on the half-empty bottle of Maker's Mark on the table, the firelight sending dancing glimmers along the glass. It beckoned to him mercilessly. He reached for it, then stopped, his fingers frozen in mid-air for a few long moments. Finally he let his hand drop. In the mood he was in, he knew it wouldn't be the smartest idea in the world to get rip-roaring drunk. Zach wouldn't want his tumblers - or anything else in here, including his nephew – smashed to bits.

Damon left his cell phone and book on the table and instead went down to the gym. The red punching bag in the corner taunted him, and he pictured his brother's face on the side. As he began to pound it, Stefan's features morphed into Katherine's and he found his fists slamming into the leather even harder. He beat the crap out of it until his knuckles, wrists and shoulders were sore and sweat ran in rivulets down his face. When he could barely stand on his own two feet any longer, he dragged himself up to his room to shower, his mind now nearly as numb as his hands.

* * *

><p>Elena moved quickly but gracefully as she navigated her way through the Friday night rush topping up mugs, placing plates of pastries in front of customers and ringing up their orders on the cash register. The hours slipped away unnoticed and before she knew it, it was after 10:30.<p>

She had her back turned as old Mr. Donnelly left, so didn't notice someone else had entered at the same time until she heard footsteps approaching the counter. Whirling, she found herself face to face with a smirking Damon, his eyes twinkling mischievously behind his glasses, which were fogging over from the abrupt temperature change of coming indoors.

He took them off and began to polish them on his scarf tail as he greeted her. "How's your night been? Seems I picked the right time to pop by."

A thin layer of untended scruff covered his cheeks and chin, obscuring the boyishness from his features. As he looked her over, warm tingles radiated through her. Damon certainly wasn't like any other guy in Mystic Falls, that was for sure. Outwardly he looked like a male model, yet Elena could tell he carried some weary weight within.

She returned his smile. "Busy, but good. Glad the rush seems to be over. Coffee?"

Retrieving his mug from his coat pocket, he set it on the counter for her to fill, then doffed his coat and hat and folded them over a stool. She was pleased to note it looked like he intended to stay for a while.

"So how's your week been?" Elena sat down behind the counter, swiveling her body to face him.

His forehead creased with a momentary frown. "Shit, mostly. You?"

"Just busy with the usual – school and work and schoolwork." She didn't mention the Vickie thing. Damon didn't know any of the people involved, but it still felt too personal – not to mention as yet unsubstantiated - to share with outsiders. "Why was your week shit? If you don't mind me asking."

He sighed. "Got into a…heated…discussion with my brother last night. Let's just say he and I don't exactly see eye to eye."

Elena could tell by his expression that there was a lot more to it than just a random argument with a sibling. She and Jeremy got into spats all the time, but they rarely ruined her day, let alone several of them. "You said he's at U. of V. Which campus? Richmond?"

"We're from Richmond, but no. He's up in Charlottesville 'til the end of April. That's where the law school is, and where our father graduated."

"Right, okay. So you won't see him again until Spring Break next month?"

Damon shook his head with a sardonic half-smile. "Hopefully not even then. We're not close...not anymore."

"Oh. Is that why you left?" She wasn't sure she should pry, but the words just spilled out of her mouth anyway.

His eyes lifted, looking at her over the top of the dark plastic frame of his glasses, and her heartbeat sped up. At first Elena didn't think he would answer, instead just stare her down until she retracted the question.

"Partially," Damon said at last. He didn't offer anything more and, though he seemed a bit troubled, she decided not to push it. They were still just getting to know one another after all. And it wasn't like she'd blurted out all her deep family secrets to him already, either. But she did find herself hoping he might someday feel comfortable enough to speak of his past. It obviously contained some deep unpleasantness he was attempting to distance himself from.

So instead, she switched their topic of conversation to her English essay. Elena jotted down her outline as they discussed how Gatsby's obsession with his overly idealized mental image of the Daisy from his past made him blind to the Daisy of the moment, and who she truly was. Damon dropped a couple of sarcastic remarks about an ex-girlfriend here and there, but Elena didn't ask about her, either. If he felt like he wanted to share this stuff at some point, he would. Right now she knew it was none of her business.

He stayed until close, and once again offered to drive her home. This time she accepted without hesitation. The night was clear and frigid, and other than scraping a layer of frost from the windshield, no snow clearing was required, so there was no repeat of their snow battle. Damon still seemed tense; he didn't chat much on the short drive and Elena found herself missing his playfulness and those twinkles in the corners of his eyes that proved he was happy.

When they pulled up in front of her house, she turned to face him and he regarded her curiously. Flushing, she grabbed her phone from her bag and held it out.

He looked down at it. "Thanks, but I've already got one," he said dryly, maintaining a straight face.

Elena couldn't help giggling. "I know! Can you put your number into mine? That way I can text you to make sure you got home safely. I wanted to the other night during the snowstorm, but couldn't."

A smile broke through and it brightened Damon's entire countenance. Elena felt herself relax a little at the sight of it. His fingers brushed hers as he took her phone and wordlessly tapped the screen for a few moments before handing it back.

"Thanks. I'll text you when I get inside so you have mine, too."

He nodded, staring at her with an undecipherable expression.

Elena's gaze dropped to his lips. They were full, and looked soft. She wondered idly what kissing him would be like. Would he be gentle and sweet? Or intense and passionate? If she were a betting woman, she'd put her money on the latter, but truthfully she figured it could go either way. Maybe someday she'd find out…

No.

_Let's put a stop to that train of thought right now_, she chastised herself. Elena knew she needed to focus on her studies and her family duties for the next five months and then hopefully in August she'd be moving away for college. Getting involved with someone would just…add complications. Complications she didn't want.

"Goodnight, Damon," she told him, pushing open the door and stepping onto the hard-packed snow.

Before she closed it behind her, she heard him mumble, "Night" back, but it was soft and distracted, as if his mind was a million miles away. Considering his general demeanor this evening, she supposed it probably was. Because of the conversation with his brother? She had no idea.

Elena gave him a wave, and headed into the house.

* * *

><p><em>His sky blue eyes are all she can see; they fill up her entire field of vision. They're so beautiful, yet so dangerous. She knows she could drown in them if she isn't careful.<em>

_She feels him place her phone into her hand, but she doesn't look down at it. She can't look down, even if she wanted to. Her eyes are locked – no, trapped – with his, like a cornered rabbit, frozen with fear, waiting for the fox to pounce._

_Only…that's not quite right, is it? She's not a rabbit; he's not a fox. But she's terrified he'll eat her alive anyway. Body, mind and soul. God, those eyes…_

_She finally breaks their connection and her gaze falls lower, to his lips. They're so…so plump! And rosy. She wants to nibble them like an apple, and she bets they'd taste just as sweet._

_Lifting her eyes to his again, she feels all his intensity radiating toward her, crossing the scant few inches still separating them. He's just filled with so much life! She wants to touch him, to share in some of that vitality. She needs it, even. Her eyelids flutter closed. She presses forward just a little..._

_And then, just like that, she's…no, wait…he's…they're…they're kissing. His lips are even softer than she'd imagined. Soft, yet insistent; gentle, yet demanding. She feels his warm fingers slide up her neck to tangle in the back of her hair, tilting her head slightly so he can angle his mouth over hers and deepen the kiss._

* * *

><p>Elena's eyelids fluttered and she woke with a gasp in the dark. It took her a few long seconds for awareness to sink in, to realize she was lying in bed wrapped up snug in her sheets instead of ensconced in Damon's arms in his Jeep. Disappointment and frustration surged through her. She could still feel his mouth on hers, and as she pressed her fingers to her lips she was overcome by an acute sense of loss.<p>

Pushing the covers back reluctantly, she got up and went to the bathroom. When she returned into the warm comfort of her bed, she tried to recall the dream, but much of it had already faded, as dreams so often do.

Before falling back to sleep, she again touched her lips and tried to remember what kissing him had felt like. She couldn't quite get there, though. All that came back was an impression of comfort and safety. And then emptiness. Loneliness.

Once the cold light of tomorrow arrived, she knew she would undoubtedly feel differently. But right now, in that dream muddled fog of lazy half-awareness that only occurs in the wee hours before dawn, she wished desperately that Damon was lying here beside her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thanks so much to scarlett2112 for pre-reading and to every one of you who has left me a review! Hope you liked this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts in the little box below - it would mean a lot to me!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>Over the weekend Elena spent what rare free moments she had trying very hard not to think about Friday night's dream. It worked fine when she kept busy, but while she lay in bed until the wee hours of Saturday night with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, unable to sleep even though every muscle in her body felt dead tired, visions of Damon's intense eyes - and even more intense lips - refused to be shut down, insisting on haunting her no matter how hard she tried to think of other things.<p>

After church with her dad on Sunday, she spent the afternoon doing homework and filling out scholarship applications online. There hadn't been any new information or clues about Vickie and Tyler, so she pushed that issue to the back of her mind so she could concentrate on more pressing matters.

Most of Monday was hectic. Elena felt like she did nothing but rush from the time she dragged herself from bed to the time she got to work. Walking into the Clutch at 5:25, throwing her knapsack behind the counter and giving her dad a hug before he headed home – it all felt like a massive relief. Now all she had to do was finish the last thousand words or so of her _Gatsby_ essay and she would end the day feeling at least a small sense of accomplishment.

There were several customers hanging out, and a few more came in to pick up take-out sandwiches and pastries on their way home from work, but by the time 7:30 rolled around, it was just Elena and the town postmaster Bart Kimble chatting at the counter. And he was sipping the last of his coffee and getting ready to head home.

The bell tinkled over the door and she looked up, flushing and smiling simultaneously as she saw who was coming in. Outside it was snowing, and as Damon stepped into the warmth of the shop he removed his wool cap and shook it off, sending a flurry of snowflakes drifting to the rubber mat beneath his boots. He looked up and met her eyes, echoing her grin back at her before walking over and joining them. Elena had the coffee pot in her hand and ready before he even had a chance to pull his travel mug from his jacket.

"Is it fresh tonight?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh, you wanted fresh? I think this one's from this morning." Elena swirled the black liquid against the glass and examined it skeptically. Turning back to Damon, she gave him a wink when she took in the incredulous expression on his face. "Kidding!" she assured him, pulled his mug closer and filling it.

He laughed, and she realized she hadn't heard him laugh since their snow fight a week ago. She liked the sound of it, and secretly hoped it meant he was in a better mood tonight

As Damon sat down, Mr. Kimble stood up and wished them both a good evening. Once it was just the two of them in the coffee shop, Elena tried to relax and act natural. And not think about her dream. Or look at his lips.

She opened her laptop to the outline of her essay they'd worked up together the week before. It gave her something to focus on other than his face. In the spirit of acting normal, she asked, "How was your weekend?"

Damon shrugged. "I got through two books."

"Really? Did you do anything besides read?"

"Watched a few movies on Netflix. Worked out. Played chess with my uncle. Nothing too eventful." As he lifted his coffee and sipped, steam fogged his glasses. He took them off and set them on the counter, before looking up at her through long dark lashes. "What about you?"

"Worked. Studied. In case you haven't already guessed by now, my life is pretty boring." That gave Elena a sudden inspiration. Throwing caution to the wind, she blurted, "Would you happen to be free this Saturday night?"

Brows rising in curiosity, he replied, "I'm always free these days. Why? What did you have in mind?"

Elena debated for a second whether this was a great idea or a stupid one, then decided to just go with it. "Wanna come with me to the Lockwood's Valentine's party?"

His eyes flared. That was clearly not what he'd expected her to say. "Who're the Lockwoods?"

She explained about the mayor's many events and how Mystic Falls founding families were expected to attend if they were capable of walking upright. "I hate those kinds of things, but I have to go. It'd be a lot less tedious if you came along."

"So you want me to keep you amused?" He chuckled. "Would I have to dress up?"

With a playful grin, she replied, "Yep and yep. That okay?"

Damon frowned, turning his head to study the falling snow outside the big plate-glass windows. Elena sensed he wasn't fully comfortable with the idea and felt a sudden urge to retract the invitation, but didn't know how to do it without making things more awkward.

"Just as friends, if that makes you feel any better," she added lamely, wondering if she'd end up regretting she'd asked.

He looked back at her and for a moment she was lost in a sea of blue. One corner of his mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile. "Hey, it's not like I have anything else going on."

"Is that a 'yes', then?" Elena asked, feeling a spark of hope bloom.

"Sure, why not. Sounds like a good reason to clean up nice. Free booze?" She nodded, smiling. "Cool. You can point out any interesting people and fill me in on the gossip. Should be entertaining."

Elena flinched at the word 'gossip', but he didn't seem to notice. She reminded herself that he had no idea how many of the town's secrets she actually knew.

Damon again stayed until close. When she was busy with customers or cleaning, he read his book, and when she had time to sit and do homework or chat, he kept her company. It didn't take long for Elena to relax completely and return to feeling at ease around him. After she locked up, she walked with him to his Jeep, this time not even waiting for him to offer to drive her home. It was coated with an inch or two of snow.

They looked at the vehicle, then at one another and grinned. Before she could react, Damon dashed over to it, slid a gloved hand up the windshield and threw snow at her.

She gasped as cold clumps trickled down her cheeks. Then she started to giggle. "You're in _so_ much trouble now, mister!" she shouted, scooping up her own handful and lobbing it his way. He dodged, and she missed, but that was how the Second Great Snow War of 2014 began.

Running around to the other side of the Jeep, Damon used it for cover as he pushed an armful of snow off the roof and sent it toward her in a spray. Elena heard him laugh loudly as she whipped around so it hit her back instead of her face. She swore – and delivered – revenge, but couldn't suppress the massive smile on her face.

By the time they paused for a breath, she was laughing so hard tears rose to the corners of her eyes. Her face, hat and gloves were soaked and they were both covered in blotches of white, although the windows of the Jeep were far from clear.

Damon reached over and swiped a finger across the top of her cheek. "You have a little something on your face," he told her, grinning.

"Oh really? Cause you look like the Abominable-frickin-Snowman!"

The glow from the streetlight overhead reflected off all the white and made his eyes twinkle. "Well, we _are_ in the mountains. Or nearly, anyway. I should fit right in." He pulled off his cap and shook it off for the second time that night, his glasses spotted with droplets of melting snow.

"Guess we'll have to lay the blanket down again," Elena said, tugging open the passenger door. She pulled it from the backseat and spread it across the front ones, like Damon had done the week prior. He traded her his keys for a snowbrush, and she started the engine. Her fingers numb, she peeled off her wet gloves and rubbed her hands together in front of the vent, although it was too soon for them to be blowing any warmth.

Damon climbed inside a minute later. "Brrr," he muttered, pulling away from the curb. "Never had this much snow back home. I think I'll need to buy a parka if I'm gonna stick around here for the rest of the winter."

Elena looked at him in surprise. "You're thinking of leaving?"

He shot her a glance before returning his focus out the windshield. Shrugging, he replied, "Let's just say I'm keeping my options open."

She sat on her fingers to try to warm them up, and didn't say anything else until they'd stopped in front of her house. Shivers wracked her small frame from the damp cold. She couldn't wait to get into her cozy pajamas and even cozier bed.

Once he put the Jeep in park and turned toward her, she said, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he smirked.

Ignoring his smartass reply, Elena continued. "When you decide to move on to bigger and better things, would you let me know? So I don't worry if you stop coming by the shop?"

Damon's eyes widened. He turned away and began fiddling with his gloves. "Sure," he mumbled. His moods were so changeable - they nearly gave her whiplash.

"But you'll come to the party?" she pressed.

He lifted his head to look back at her with a small smile. "I said I would, and I'm a man of my word. Besides, it might be fun. And you do make pretty good company."

Elena's face grew hot, which was a welcome respite from the chill that still permeated the interior of the Jeep. The short drive to her house hadn't been enough time for the engine to warm up much.

"You're not so bad yourself."

He stared at her, but the emotions swirling behind those icy blue eyes were undecipherable. She grabbed her knapsack off the floor and put her fingers on the door handle. "Thanks for the lift, Damon. Please text me when you get in."

"Goodnight," he told her softly.

The door crunched closed behind her and she forced herself not to look back as she hurried up the walkway. Once she'd unlocked the front door, she heard him pull away from the curb, waiting before leaving to make sure she got safely inside, as he always did.

Her dad sat on the couch in the small living room watching the news. Paperwork and file folders were strewn across the coffee table underneath his slippered feet. Elena came in and sat with him for a few minutes, telling him about her day. When she mentioned she had a date for the upcoming Valentine's party, he turned his face to look at her directly, eyebrows raised. "Was that his car you just got out of?"

"Yes, Damon comes into the shop some nights and keeps me company. He's given me a lift home a few times."

"Thought you said you didn't want a boyfriend?" He smiled at his daughter, casual teasing on the surface, all concerned father underneath.

"I still don't. It's not _that_ kind of a date," she assured him quickly. "He's just a friend. Zach Salvatore's nephew – have you met him yet?"

Grayson shook his head. "Guess I'll meet him Saturday."

"Guess you will. If he doesn't back out on me." She sighed, thinking of Damon's mood swings.

"No guy in their right mind would leave _you_ high and dry, sweetie."

Elena laughed. "Thanks, Daddy. You always know just what I need to hear." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed down the hallway.

When she was ready for bed, she opened her laptop and finished typing out the final few paragraphs for her English essay – Damon's presence had been kind of distracting so she hadn't quite gotten her first draft done earlier. Tomorrow evening at work she'd read it over and revise as needed.

Satisfied, Elena tucked the computer into her knapsack and turned out the light. As she lay there, she remembered her earlier instructions to him. She reached out blindly and fumbled for her phone on the nightstand. There was one new text, and it was from Damon.

_Home safe and sound. You left your gloves in my car. Want me to bring them over in the morning?_

Though the idea of him showing up at her door before school - not to mention the possibility of getting a ride and skipping the bus - made her want to take him up on the offer, she forced herself to reply, _That's ok. I've got another pair. I'll get them from you later._

In less than a minute another text arrived: _How formal is this party? Tux? Jacket and tie? Button-up and dress pants?_

She smiled. The image of Damon in a tuxedo was definitely appealing, but she figured he would have to go rent one, and it wasn't necessary.

_The last option is fine. See you Saturday. Can you pick me up at 7? Or just meet there?_

_I'll be over at 7. Night._

Elena returned her phone to the dresser and rolled onto her back. Her body felt tired, but her brain refused to shut off. The rest of the house was quiet – so quiet she could hear the ticking of the clock on the mantle out in the living room and the soft chugging sounds of the fridge in the kitchen.

She tossed and turned, knowing full well why she was so restless. She had a date Saturday night with the most attractive guy she'd ever met – a guy who, under different circumstances, might even be actual boyfriend material, yet she couldn't even let herself be excited about it. There was no hope of a future there. He was clearly not interested in her that way. And even if he had been, she absolutely did not want a relationship right now.

It was easy to keep telling herself that, and easy to say aloud to others, but in the silent blackness of night when she was alone with only her overactive mind to keep her company, it was getting more and more difficult to accept.

* * *

><p>After school a few days later, Elena was bopping around her room listening to music and getting ready for work, wondering if Damon might come by tonight, when she heard a light knock on her door. Her brother poked his head around the side of it. "Hey, can I come in for a minute?"<p>

"Sure." She waved him forward.

He only took a step inside, clearly not intending to stay for long. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked at her uncertainly. "Um, so I was talking to Vickie on the bus home…"

"As usual," Elena said with a smile, examining her reflection in the mirror over her dresser as she brushed her dark hair up into a ponytail.

"Yeah. So…she was in a real bitch today. Told me she and Ty got into a huge fight last night."

Elena looked back at him. "Oh yeah? Did they split?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Not yet, no. Hope she dumps his ass soon though. She says he can be a real dick when he's angry."

"Did she say anything else?" Elena asked, frowning. She wondered if Vickie had any new bruises. Not that she had any way to find out, short of asking her directly, which she wasn't about to do.

"Nope." He started to leave the room.

"Jer, wait."

Her brother turned back to her, brows raised in curiosity.

"You going to the Valentine's party Saturday night?"

"Unless I can convincingly fake the flu." Jeremy smiled ruefully. Neither of them particularly enjoyed hanging out at the Lockwood mansion, no matter what the occasion.

"Good luck with that," Elena laughed. "I think we should keep our eyes and ears peeled while we're there."

"For what exactly?"

She shrugged. "I don't know…just…keep a watch on Tyler. And Vickie."

"You still think he hurt her?" Jeremy obviously didn't want to believe it, but the thought it might be true pissed him off.

"I don't know. I hope not. And I know it's technically none of our business even if he does, if she refuses to put a stop to it. But…I hate the idea of any guy thinking he has the right to control or abuse a woman." Elena paused, looking her brother right in the eyes, making sure he was paying attention to her words. "I want to make sure that's not what's going on here. And if it is, we need to help Vickie end it."

"Couldn't agree more." He flashed her a tight smile before walking out.

* * *

><p>Once the coffee shop slowed down on Thursday night, Elena was glad to take advantage of the lull. By the time the last hour of her shift quietly rolled around, she'd put the finishing touches on her English essay, e-mailed it to her teacher, and closed the document. A sense of pleasure always came along with a job well done, and she knew she'd written a great essay – hopefully even an A+ essay.<p>

Turning her attention to her column, she clicked open her Gmail account to see what this week's inquiries looked like. She found two messages she could answer in the paper, one that she would reply to privately and this one:

_Dear Miss Lonely Love,_

_My issue is a bit personal, but my bff says you sometimes answer questions privately, so I figured it didn't hurt to try. I know I could Google it, but we only have one computer at home and it's shared with my brother and my parents, so I don't want them to find out I'm looking up this stuff. I'm too embarrassed to ask my friends or they'll think I'm more of a loser than they already do. So I'm asking you._

_Wow, this is hard to put into words. Ok, here goes. I recently started having sex with my boyfriend. I knew it would hurt at first - and it totally did - but we've done it four times now, and it still hasn't gotten any better. It's uncomfortable for me, still kind of painful and I don't get much out of it. All my friends who've done it say it's supposed to feel good and be oh so amazing and stuff, but for me it's not. Luckily it doesn't last very long, and my boyfriend seems to really enjoy it, so I keep trying for him._

_My question is: what am I doing wrong? What can I do to make it better for me? (oh yeah, and I'm 16.)_

_Thank you!_

_Sex Advice Desired_

Elena sighed as she filed the e-mail into her _Other_ folder unanswered. She wished she could give some useful advice to SAD, she really did, but she simply couldn't. This wasn't the first time someone had written to Miss Lonely Love asking questions about sex, not by a long shot. She used to just ignore them, but a few months ago she'd begun saving them, although she wasn't really sure why.

The problem was that Elena didn't consider herself to be the least bit qualified to offer guidance about anything sex-related. She'd only done it once, over a year ago, and it hadn't exactly been an experience she would classify as fun. At the time, she'd been dating Matt Donovan – Vickie's older brother actually, who was off at Duke now. They hadn't ever been anything serious, but Elena had been depressed about her mother's death and had gone to him one afternoon and told him she didn't want to be a virgin anymore. Unsurprisingly, he'd been more than happy to help her out. The whole thing had left her decidedly underwhelmed. She'd stopped seeing Matt on a romantic basis not long after, although they'd had no problem remaining friends. And although she'd gone on a few dates here and there since then, she hadn't had any urge to try sex again. She felt vaguely guilty for not being able to reply to SAD's questions, but there was nothing she could do about it. Hopefully the girl would ask her friends after all, or find a way to use the internet without having to worry about nosy family members.

Taking a sip of hot chocolate, Elena typed out her answers to the other letters and tried to forget about it. The rapid clicking of her fingers dashing across the keyboard filled her ears, and before she knew it, it was time to go home.

* * *

><p>It was another brutally cold night.<p>

The Gilbert house was still and quiet as Elena lay in her bed, shivering as she stared up into the dark. She had her warmest flannel pajamas on, and had tossed an extra blanket over her comforter, but she still couldn't seem to get warm enough.

There was no wind tonight, but the icy temperatures seemed to permeate everything. Her father had salted the front step and walkway, but there were still slippery spots. She'd nearly fallen twice coming down the sidewalk of her street, eventually deciding to just walk in the road itself for better purchase under her boots.

Now she huddled under four blankets and wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps her dad had been late paying the heating bill this month. She would have to check into it in the morning, just to make sure.

Instead of changing position for the umpteenth time and getting more frustrated with her wakefulness, Elena instead reached out and switched on the lamp. Pushing back the covers, she slid from beneath them and kneeled on the floor in front of her bookshelf. Cold seeped through the floorboards, the thin carpet and the fabric of her pajamas, making her shiver. As her eyes grudgingly adjusted to the intrusion of the light, she scanned the spines, blinking, until she found the book she was searching for. She plucked it out and dove back into the relative warmth of her bed.

Letting the book fall open to the two envelopes concealed between the pages, through glassy eyes she re-read both letters from JAI. Elena wasn't quite sure why they'd even popped into her head, but once the idea got in there she'd been unable to stop herself from looking them over again. There wasn't much to the second one; he wasn't asking for any advice, just thanking her. There was no valid reason for her to feel compelled to reply to him. No reason at all.

Retrieving a pad and pen from her nightstand drawer, she propped it up again the back of the book and began to write.

_Dear JAI,_

_I have to ask: why are you shutting yourself off from another relationship ever again? I don't know how old you are, but surely that vow is a bit premature? I know you feel hurt and betrayed – badly – and I get that your trust has been shattered, but is it really worth becoming a hermit forever? Shutting yourself off from the chance of future happiness?_

_You say you met a girl and you had fun. Was there a connection there by any chance? Will you see her again? Forget the idea of dating for a moment - do you think you two could be friends?_

_I guess my point is that you didn't do anything wrong to cause the horrible situation you went through with your ex (that I know of), so why should you be punished for the rest of your life because of it? Just something to think about._

_If you want someone to talk to, you are welcome to continue to correspond with me. Sometimes it's easier to share our true feelings with anonymous strangers. Even if you just want to talk about other things, I'm here._

_Have a good week,_

_Miss LL_

Elena yawned and set the book, letters and pen on the floor beside her bed before switching off the light. Pulling up the blankets to her chin again, she turned on her side and closed her eyes, now feeling much more tired than she'd been before. The tap dripped in the bathroom down the hall. Her brother snored lightly from his room next to it. And sleep, blessed sleep, finally washed over her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to leave me a review. You guys who review are the best readers in the world! Special thank you to scarlett2112 for pre-reading! Would love it if you would please review and me know what you think of this chapter. The next chapter is going to be the party. Thank you!  
><em>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

><p>Damon moved from room to room, sliding books from shelves, looking them over briefly, putting them back. He trailed his fingers along various surfaces as he passed, examining at the dust he gathered with disinterest. He adjusted his glasses over and over, pacing, trying to keep his mind occupied.<p>

The Valentine's party was tonight, and he was due to pick up Elena in a few hours. Since he'd arrived in Mystic Falls, he'd been trying to keep a low profile. Other than her, his uncle and a few random cashiers, he'd not really talked to anyone. Though he'd been to many parties, both formal and informal, in his life, the idea of attending this one – for no logical reason he could pinpoint – was making him antsy.

Damon wandered into the study. Zach sat with a glass of whisky in hand, reading the paper in front of the fire. He looked up as Damon entered the room. "Another letter for JAI came yesterday," he informed his nephew, indicating the table by Damon's elbow. "Who the hell is JAI?"

Picking up the envelope, Damon noticed the familiar rounded handwriting on the front. With a small smile, he stuffed it into his back pocket. "Long story," he mumbled, turning to go.

Zach folded the paper and set it beside him. "Your dad called this morning," he said.

Damon's spine went as stiff as his facial expression. "Oh yeah?"

"He wants to know when you're coming home."

He looked back at his uncle. "And what did you tell him?"

"That I didn't know if you were."

_Not fucking likely_, Damon thought. Out loud he asked, "How'd he take that?"

"He's worried about you, Damon. He's worried you're throwing your entire life away just cause some girl broke your heart."

_Some girl? Not just some girl – THE girl._ And if she stayed with Stefan and they married, he'd always have to look at the two of them at family gatherings and remember their betrayal. Ergo, no more family gatherings. He wasn't close to his father anyway; surely Damon's presence wouldn't be missed.

With a snort, he replied, "That's what he told you? Bullshit. He's worried about looking bad in front of his rich asshole friends if they find out he has a loser for a son."

Zach sighed. "I know things haven't been…easy between you two since your mom passed away. But he loves you. He may not show it very well, but trust me, he does. My brother's never been one to share feelings, and he hasn't been the same since he lost Isabella."

At the mention of his mother's name Damon's throat constricted. Even ten years later, thinking of her hurt. He supposed it always would. Applying the same logic to the other woman who'd broken his heart – this time deliberately – he knew he would never be able to return back into the family fold.

"Uh huh," he muttered.

His uncle's eyes held no judgment, only sympathy. "Hope one of these days you'll consider speaking to him when he calls. If you're still here next time he calls, that is."

Damon remembered Elena's request to make sure to let her know if he decided to leave town so she wouldn't worry. He thought of the pretty smile she always had for him every time she saw him come into the coffee shop. It wasn't so bad in Mystic Falls. Maybe he'd end up sticking around for a bit.

"Don't hold your breath on that one," he replied with a slight shake of his head.

"Which? You talking to your dad or you still being here?"

"The former."

"Oh good," Zach smiled. "Don't tell anyone I said so, but I kinda like having you around."

Damon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'll probably live to regret that admission."

His uncle's smile grew wider. "I'm sure I will."

Damon went upstairs to his room and stretched out across the bed. Using his teeth, he tore off the end of the envelope and pulled out the folded note inside. He read it over quickly.

Grabbing a pad of paper from his desk drawer, he started to scrawl a reply.

_Becoming a hermit sounds pretty good to me right now._

He stared at it for a moment before scratching it out.

_You're right. I do feel hurt and betrayed. Wouldn't you?_

With a sigh he crossed that out, too.

His pen spun in his fingers as he thought harder. Then he ripped out the messed up page and tossed it longhand toward the waste can. _Bull's-eye_! One fist pumped the air for an invisible cheering crowd. With an unblemished sheet in front of him, he pressed his lips together and began to write.

_Dear Miss LL,_

_You want to correspond? Sure, why not? I can do that. Anonymity means lack of judgment, and that is a concept I can get behind._

_I met my ex when I was 19 and she was 17, in her final year of high school. I wasn't in college; I was taking a year to "find myself" or whatever such crap I told my family anyway. Basically I was a deadbeat, living at home, spending my father's cash and hooking up with nearly every hot girl I saw._

_Until I met her. She was different from the others. Pretty, yes, but pretty girls weren't hard to come by for me. This one was far more than just pretty. She was beautiful – top-shelf beautiful. Tall, fit, and put together in all the right ways. She looked like a supermodel, and in many ways she acted like one, too._

_She wasn't into high school boys. I don't think she ever had been, even when she was just a starry-eyed freshman. She told me she always went for college guys and bad boys. I was neither. Sure, I liked to have a drink every now and then, and getting laid had never been any particular challenge, but I wasn't a true bad boy. No tattoos, no motorcycles, no cigarette dangling from my lower lip like James Dean rudely teleported into the wrong decade. I was just a lazy-ass rich kid, wasting his life away._

_(Ironically I guess I still am.)_

_So I didn't know what she saw in me, but I didn't much care either. The only thing that mattered was that she saw something. She wanted me, when a girl who looked like that could have had anybody. I never stood a chance in hell of resisting her charms. Not that I wanted to resist. I think I fell head over heels in love with her the first night we spent together._

_More fool, me, as it turned out._

_I'd never been in love before. I didn't know how one was supposed to act, or what constituted smothering, or too much pressure. I treated her like a queen. Flowers, fancy dinners, shopping trips, public declarations of love – as you can tell I was a smitten kitten. And one memorable night she told me she loved me, too, and, like the lovelorn idiot I was, I believed her._

_We were together for two years. You already know how it ended._

_Your turn._

_JAI_

Damon tore the sheet from the pad and slid it into an envelope. He'd drop it into a mailbox downtown on his way to pick up Elena. Which reminded him, he really needed to start getting ready.

* * *

><p>"So what's he look like?"<p>

Elena raised her right shoulder, tilting her ear to hold her phone in place as she used both hands to rummage through the bottom of her closet looking for her black heels. "He's…hold on." Finding the elusive shoes, she tugged them out and looked them over skeptically. Then she retrieved the phone from its precarious perch and straightened up.

"Um…he's tall and slim. He wears glasses and has shaggy brown hair and the most incredible blue eyes.

"So he's cute?" Bonnie asked. Elena could hear the smile in her voice.

"Very. But like I told you – this is _not_ a date." She opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of black pantyhose. God, she hated wearing pantyhose!

Bonnie chuckled. "If you say so."

"It's not! We're just friends. You know my thoughts on getting involved with anyone right now."

"Yeah, I know. But August is still a long way off. You're only a senior once, Elena. You deserve to have some fun."

Elena sighed. "I only own three pairs of jeans, yet two formal dresses hang in my closet. How is that fair? Couldn't I just trade them in for more jeans? Also, black and white floral strapless or red satin?"

"It's a Valentine's party! Definitely red satin– you look gorgeous in that one. I wanna see pictures!"

Pulling the dress from the hanger, Elena tossed it on the bed. "I'll get my dad to take a few before we leave," she replied distractedly, eyeing the fabric for stains from the last time it was worn.

"Including Damon."

She sighed again. "Fine. Including Damon. If he's willing."

Elena heard a tinkling of bells through the phone. "Okay, I'm walking into the Clutch. Talk to you tomorrow. Have an amazing time! Live on the edge and kiss a boy, will ya?"

"Bonnie! That's not-"

"Bye!" Then her friend was gone.

Elena stared at the phone for a moment, heat rushing to her cheeks as an image from her dream about Damon flashed across her mind. Setting it on her dresser, she pulled off her sweater and yoga pants and returned her attention to the dress on the bed.

By the time she heard her dad's car pull into the driveway she'd put it on and was checking herself out in the full length mirror with a doubtful expression. The dark red fabric clung to her body; was it her imagination or did it fit a bit snugger than last year? Had she put on weight? She didn't think so. Maybe her curves were just a bit…fuller now than they'd been before. Was it too tight? Was it too slutty? The last thing she wanted was for Damon to think she looked cheap.

Filled with sudden inspiration, she dashed across the hall to the master bedroom, sliding open the closet door and groping around on the shelf above the rod of dust-covered clothing. Her fingers closed around something soft and she pulled it down, her mother's favorite black shawl in her hands. Elena's heart twinged as memories came flooding back of her mom sitting on the couch in the living room swearing to herself under her breath, knitting needles flying as she reworked a section of the complicated pattern. She knew if her mother was here with her now she'd undoubtedly let Elena borrow it for the party - as long as she was careful with it.

With that thought in mind she went back to her room and closed the door, draping the lacey knit over her shoulders and re-examining her reflection. This was _much_ better. And she'd be warmer now, too, as the dress's inch-wide shoulder straps didn't do much more than hide her bra.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. "Elena?" Her father's face poked around the edge. He looked tired, but then again, of course he was tired - he'd been at the shop for eleven hours today. "You look lovely." He didn't mention the shawl, but she was sure he recognized it.

With a smile, she replied, "Thanks, Dad."

"This boy of yours will be here in a half hour?"

Elena nodded. "Yes. And he's not _my_ boy. Please don't say that in front of Damon."

"Never," her father promised, winking. "You and your brother get some dinner?"

"We had sandwiches. You know there's always enough food to feed all of Mystic Falls at these things. It's totally excessive!" She grabbed her curling iron and began to twist thick strands of hair around the barrel. "I'll be ready. I still have plenty of time."

Her dad laughed. "Sure you will. You're just like your mother – always fussing about with this or that until you're running late."

"So I'm a perfectionist – you say that like it's a bad thing!"

Grayson shook his head and smiled. "Just think about it this way: do you _really_ want me and Jer to have to entertain your boy while he waits for you?"

Elena grimaced, rolling her eyes at him. "Point taken. Now go have a quick shower and change before he gets here!"

By the time she heard the doorbell ring at just about seven o'clock on the nose, she had just finished applying lip gloss. Dropping it into her purse, she dashed for the door, elbowing her brother out of the way as he was about to answer it. She pulled it wide to find Damon waiting on her front step.

"Hey," Elena greeted him, smiling. "Come in for a minute." She gestured inward with her arm as she stepped back to allow him space to enter.

For a moment he seemed to hesitate. Then he stepped onto the mat and stomped snow from his boots, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his jacket and loosening his scarf as she shut the door behind him. His glasses were nowhere to be seen and Elena made a mental note to ask if he had contacts.

She followed the path of his eyes as they moved from his boots to her heels, gliding up her calves and over her knees, rising along the shiny fabric of her dress to her bare upper chest. Her skin seemed to sear beneath his gaze. When at last his eyes met hers, she smiled shyly, sure her face was as red as the outfit she wore.

His Adam's apple bobbed as Damon stared, eyes wide and glazed. At last he spoke. "You look…" He swallowed and tried again. "You look beautiful, Elena."

Before she could respond her dad came down the hallway toward them. He now wore his favorite plaid sport coat over a pair of charcoal gray trousers. She'd mended the cuffs of that jacket earlier, as they were getting worn in several places.

Her father smiled as he took in Damon standing there in his black felt pea coat and stunned expression. "You must be Damon," he said, extending his hand.

Damon's eyes shot back into focus. He flashed Grayson a grin as he shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir. You know my uncle Zach I think?"

"Yes, Zach's been coming into my shop for years. He's a bit of a hermit, huh? Never seems to do much socializing around town."

Shrugging, Damon said, "He went through a rough divorce before he moved here. I think he just prefers the peace and quiet, although I've put a bit of a crimp in that lately."

"Ah. And what brings you to Mystic Falls?" her father asked.

Knowing Damon's reluctance to discuss that particular subject, Elena jumped in. "Daddy, we've gotta get going. We'll see you and Jer at the party." With that, she pulled her coat from the hook and was startled when Damon took it from her hands and held it out so she could slip her arms into it. She noticed her dad watching them with clear approval in his dark eyes so much like her own.

Tugging off her heels, Elena slid into her feet into her scuffed old boots as Damon politely said goodbye to Grayson. Her brother had disappeared into his bedroom as soon as Damon arrived, so she'd have to introduce the two of them later.

As she stepped over the threshold, she felt Damon's hand brush the small of her back before he closed the door behind them. A shiver passed through her that had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

* * *

><p>The big colonial mansion loomed into view as they came around a bend in the driveway. Tiny twinkling lights adorned the columns and façade; they seemed to echo the stars, glowing pinpoints above them in the frozen night sky. Elena could tell the clear weather wouldn't last though. Coming down Route Four she'd noted tall clouds building up on the mountains, and knew they'd soon descend to dump their burden of snow.<p>

Damon drove slowly, looking for a space to park among all the vehicles along both sides of the road. After spotting one and maneuvering into place, he instructed Elena to stay put as he came around to open her door for her.

She looked down at his extended hand for a second before slipping her gloved fingers into his. A flutter of disappointment passed through her when he dropped it again once she had both feet firmly on the ground. She scolded herself mentally for the fickle emotion.

The first scatterings of light snow began to fall as she walked up the front steps with Damon close by her side. They were greeted at the door by a young man in a tux whom Elena vaguely recognized from school. Damon helped her remove her coat, then shrugged off his own and surrendered them both to the valet while Elena switched from her boots to her heels.

Just as she'd gotten herself organized Tyler's mother swept into the front entranceway, glass of white wine in hand. "Elena Gilbert! So pleased to see you. Will your father and brother also be joining us tonight?"

"Hi Mrs. Lockwood. Yes, they'll be here any minute."

Mrs. Lockwood's eyes swept past her and landed on Damon. Her smile amped up, all white teeth against red lipstick. "And who is this handsome young man with you?"

Before Elena could respond, Mrs. Lockwood turned to Damon and held out her bejeweled fingers. "I'm Carole Lockwood. Welcome to our annual Valentine's party. Can I get you a drink?" She snapped the fingers of her other hand beside her head and, as if by magic, another tuxedoed guy with a tray of wine glasses appeared at her side.

Damon cleared his throat and glanced at Elena. "This is Damon Salvatore," she told Carole. "Zach Salvatore's nephew. He's new in town." It crossed her mind that Mrs. Lockwood probably had no idea who Zach even was.

Damon took her proffered hand and gave it a quick pump. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lockwood. You have a beautiful home. I'm glad Elena invited me to join her tonight."

She glanced between them with clear curiosity, and Elena wondered if she was trying to determine if they were a couple. Turned her full attention back to Damon, Carole said, "Welcome to Mystic Falls, Damon. I'm sure you'll love our beautiful little town, especially once it warms up a bit." She plucked two glasses of wine from the waiter's tray and put them in Damon and Elena's hands. "Please make yourself at home. Elena can give you the grand tour." She paused, looking Damon up and down once again. "Or, if you'd like, I'd be happy to make time to show you around myself."

"Thank you. I'm sure Elena will take care of me tonight," he responded politely.

Carole laughed, winking at Elena. "I'm sure she will." Then she sauntered off to join the guests in the adjacent room.

Elena's face grew warm at the double-entendre, memories from her dream flashing through her mind.

"She seems like a piece of work," Damon muttered, leaning close to her ear as they started down the hallway.

Elena rolled her eyes. "That's one way of putting it. If you see her even once tonight without a drink in her hand, I'll buy your coffee for the next week."

That earned her a smile. "Lush?"

"Pretty much." Elena raised her glass to her lips. The wine was tart, but had a nice fruity aftertaste. She took a second sip.

Damon raised a brow at her. "Underage drinking tonight, are we? What will your father say about that? And will I get blamed?"

With a laugh, Elena replied, "Don't worry about Dad." She upended the remainder of the wine into her mouth, swished it around and swallowed it as she held his bemused gaze.

He stared at her for a moment before chuckling. "Planning on tying one on tonight? Is that why you invited me? To carry you out of here later?" Elena snorted, shaking her head. He took a swig from his own glass and grimaced. "First stop on our little tour: show me the bar. I need a real drink."

A slight buzz was already starting and, taking advantage of the courage it brought, she linked her hand through his elbow and guided him into the large living room. As they approached the bar along the back, she heard a familiar laugh. Craning her neck to see around the tall man in front of her, Elena spotted Caroline standing at the bar sipping a drink and talking to her date, Jesse.

Jesse Jordan played on the basketball team with Jeremy and Tyler, but he didn't run in the same crowds as either of them. He was a good foot taller than Caroline, with close cropped dark hair and high cheekbones. At the moment she was in full flirt mode with one had a hand on his arm as she stretched on her tiptoes to whisper something to him.

Elena decided now was as good a time as any to go over and get the necessary hellos out of the way. She tugged Damon toward the bar.

"Hey Care," she said as they approaching the couple. Caroline wore a baby pink strapless sheath that showcased her every curve - and she had plenty of them. Jesse could barely keep his eyes off her generous cleavage.

Caroline greeted her with a smile. "Hi Elena." Then her gaze lifted over Elena's shoulder and landed on Damon. Her deep blue eyes flared. She leaned in close to Elena's ear and dropped her voice. "Who's your date?"

Elena felt her cheeks heat up again and she released Damon's arm. "He's um…he's not-"

"Damon," he cut in. "Great to meetcha." He gave the blonde a polite grin.

"Oh…um…" For once in her life, Caroline Forbes seemed to be at a loss for words. "You, too," she replied, finally re-finding her trademark dazzling smile.

Jesse introduced himself, and he and Damon turned to the bartender to order drinks, leaving Caroline staring at Elena with what could only be interpreted as blatant admiration.

"He's hot!" she mouthed, darting her eyes in Damon's direction, just in case Elena was too dumb to realize who she meant.

"I know," Elena mouthed back, feigning nonchalance as she leaned her back against the bar. Let Caroline think Damon was her date. Why not? It might be good for her reputation if the other girls at school thought she had an attractive older boyfriend. Even if it wasn't true.

Once Caroline and Jesse wandered off to greet some new arrivals, Damon slid over until his shoulder brushed Elena's. He had a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand. "She a friend of yours?"

"Who? Caroline? Sort of. Not really. I mean, we know each other, but…"

"You're not close," Damon finished, taking a sip from his glass as his eyes wandered over the huddles of people. It seemed like more were coming in every minute.

"Not especially, no."

Jeremy picked that moment to walk into the room. He scanned the crowd until his eyes connected with his sister. "My brother's here," Elena told Damon.

"Where?"

There was no need to point him out; he walked right up to them. "Hey, 'Lena. You seen Vickie around here anywhere?" He spared only a disinterested glance at Damon.

"Not yet, no. I haven't seen Ty yet either."

"Okay." Jeremy turned to go, presumably to continue searching for his friend, but Elena called him back.

He turned around with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

Elena motioned to Damon. "This is Damon," she said.

Jeremy gave him the once-over. "Okay."

"Jeremy! Don't be rude." She turned to Damon. "This is my obnoxious little brother."

Damon chuckled. "I've got one of those, too." He stuck a hand out to Jeremy. "Nice to meetcha dude."

They held eye contact for a moment; it appeared to Elena like each was sizing up the other, challenging the other…for what? She had no idea. Then her brother broke into a smile and any tension there had been – if it hadn't been only her imagination – dissipated.

"You, too. Catch you guys later." Jeremy headed off toward the dining room, leaving a somewhat bewildered Elena to mentally regroup. Her brother hadn't seen her with a guy since she'd broken up with Matt, so his overprotective sibling instincts had probably just kicked in for a moment. She made a mental note to set him straight on her continued singleness later.

Elena looked up at Damon at the same time he was looking down at her. "Feel like continuing my tour?" he asked.

She showed him the rest of the sprawling main floor. He was most impressed with the modern and well-equipped kitchen. It was crawling with caterers and waiters, so they didn't linger, but she noticed the covetous admiration on his face as he checked out all the high-tech appliances.

"You cook?" she asked, trying to hide the note of surprise from her voice. Her father and brother weren't capable of much more than grilled cheese or bacon and eggs.

Damon chuckled. "My mom taught me when I was a kid, and our housekeeper showed me more stuff as I got older. She sometimes had to shoo me out of the kitchen when I got in her way too much."

Elena smiled, trying to imagine what Damon had looked like as a kid. She just couldn't do it; all she could picture was the man in front of her, but smaller.

Jeremy appeared at her side, beer in hand. "You're drinking?" she asked, brows raised.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "So're you. How else are we supposed to make it through this thing?"

"Does Dad know?"

"I'll just say I'm holding it for Damon if he asks."

Now it was Elena's turn for an eye roll. "Did you find Vickie?"

With a sigh, Jeremy said, "Yeah. Last I saw she was dancing with Ty." He gestured toward the living room where space had been cleared in the middle to make a temporary dance floor. A few couples were dancing, but most people still just stood around the periphery and chatted with their drinks in hand. More alcohol would need to flow before the floor would really get jumping.

Jeremy wandered off toward the study. Elena looked back at Damon in time to see him set his empty tumbler on a nearby counter. "Which way to the powder room?" he mock-whispered.

She showed him to the washroom near the front entranceway, but it was occupied. "C'mon," she said, pointing to the curved wooden staircase.

Raising an eyebrow, Damon's lip curled into a smirk. "Taking me upstairs? What would your father say?" He added a wink to ensure she got that he was teasing.

Elena flushed, but smiled back. 'You hafta pee or not?"

She started up the steps and he obediently followed. They turned right and went down the hall until she paused in front of a partially open door. "In there," she motioned. "I'll wait at the top of the stairs." Damon disappeared inside.

The general cacophony of chatter and music from the party drifted up to Elena where she stood, arms on the balcony rail, looking down at the people milling about in the entranceway below. She liked this. Being the unseen observer instead of the participant was much more her style; she tended to prefer a bit of distance between herself and all the action.

"I said, stop!"

With a jolt, her head swiveled in the direction of the yell. The voice was female, and sounded familiar. She took a few cautious steps along the hallway in the opposite direction from the bathroom.

She heard a responding low rumble that sounded male. Elena couldn't make out the words.

"Take your hands off me!"

Elena's eyes widened. Was that Vickie? Fighting with Tyler? She tiptoed closer. The voices were coming from behind a closed door.

"What's your problem tonight? One minute you're hot, the next an Ice Queen. I don't get you." That was definitely Tyler.

Vickie's tone softened a bit. "There's nothing to get. I'm not playing games with you - we have to go back to the party."

"I'm sure no one will miss us for a few minutes," Tyler grumbled.

Elena heard movement within. She hurried back to the balcony in case one of them came out of the room. Her heart was pounding. Where was Jeremy? She leaned over the rail, trying to see if she could spot him.

"Hey."

She jumped back in surprise, but it was only Damon.

"Who're you looking for?" he wondered, smiling.

At the sound of a door opening down the hall, she grabbed his arm in a panic, dragging him down the stairs.

"Whoa, what's your rush?" he asked as they reached the bottom. Elena released Damon's sleeve and glanced up to see Tyler stride down the upstairs hallway, heading away from the room where she'd overheard part of his conversation. He looked annoyed.

"It's nothing," she muttered. Sighing, she took in the party, which now appeared to be in full swing. More waiters were circulating, offering guests trays of chocolate truffles and champagne. The music had slowed to romantic ballads, and the dance floor was filling up. She didn't see her dad, but spotted Jeremy dancing awkwardly with Caroline's mom over near the front windows. On impulse, Elena turned to Damon. "Can you dance?"

Surprised, he replied, "Um, sure." Before he knew it, she'd latched onto his hand and was pulling him out into the midst of the couples on the floor. At that moment the song changed to Chris DeBurgh's "Lady in Red", and Damon couldn't help but appreciate the appropriateness. He slid one arm around her waist and held her fingers up by their shoulders with the other.

Elena looked into his eyes as they began to dance. Her feet knew all the moves from years of functions like these, and they fell into step with his lead. She didn't have to concentrate on dancing, but instead of thinking about Vickie and Tyler, all her brain could focus on was the proximity of Damon's body to her own. The fresh scent of his cologne enveloped her, and as she breathed it in she felt a tightening in her lower belly. Her pulse, which had begun to return to normal, sped right back up again.

Damon's brows drew together as he looked down at her. "Something wrong?" he whispered.

She knew her cheeks were once again flaming. "No, I'm fine."

"Red is definitely your color," he told her with a small nod. She knew he meant her dress, and she appreciated the compliment, but all she could think was that her face probably matched the fabric.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

A faraway voice in her head reminded her she wanted to tell Jeremy what she'd overhead, and that she should be steering them toward her brother and Mrs. Forbes so she could switch partners and speak with him. That voice seemed small and unimportant right now.

They locked eyes and danced, moving automatically, for the first time connected both physically and mentally. Damon smiled and it was genuine, his usual defenses at least temporarily down. Elena echoed it right back to him, no longer feeling like an outsider looking in, but for once somewhere she truly wanted to be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thanks for reading! Extra thanks to scarlett2112 for prereading the first draft of this. I didn't have time to beta, so if you see errors, please tweet or DM me so I can correct them. Thanks! (I always seem to miss stuff!) Part 2 of the night of the party comes next, and things definitely are starting to get more interesting! Please review? Reviewers are the actual best! _

_PS if you want to, please follow me on twitter or tumblr: elvishgrrl_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

><p>All too soon the song came to an end. Damon released her hand and stepped back and a vague sense of disappointment came over Elena. She tried to ignore it, reminding herself she needed to speak to Jeremy.<p>

"Excuse me for a minute?" she said to Damon. When he nodded, she hurried after her brother, who appeared to be on his way to the kitchen.

"Jer, hold on," she called.

He stopped and turned to her. "What's up?"

Elena grabbed the fabric of his jacket sleeve and tugged him into the back study. It wasn't deserted, but at least they could hear each other without needing to yell.

"I overheard Vickie and Tyler upstairs earlier," she told him in a low voice. When he just raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she added, "Fighting."

Jeremy eyes widened. "What did you hear?"

She explained what she could, but unfortunately she hadn't caught all that much of the argument. Jeremy looked displeased, but not angry, which was good. "So it sounded like it was about sex?"

Elena shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

He frowned. "I wish I could ask her what's going on, but I don't think she'd take it very well coming from me."

"I know. I wish you could, too. Hopefully Vick can take care of herself."

"Yeah. Hope so. Thanks for telling me. If I find out anything else, I'll let you know." With that, her brother continued on his way.

Before Elena could go back into the main room in search of Damon, her father stepped into the study. When he saw her he came right over. "There you are. Been wondering where you'd gotten to."

"Hey. Yeah, it seems extra crowded this year."

Glancing around the room, he asked, "Where's your boy?"

Elena rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "I told you, he's not my boy, Daddy. We're just friends. Honest!"

"So you say. But I saw how you looked at him earlier. He's a good looking fella. And college isn't for months yet."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Are you implying you'd be cool with me dating Damon? _Really_?"

Grayson laughed. "I'm your father - I don't know if I'll be," he paused, adding finger-quotes, "_cool_ with you dating anyone, ever. But I know Zach, and he says Damon's a good guy. I just want you to be happy and have a bit of fun. It's been so long since-"

"It's okay, Dad, you don't need to-"

"Since I've seen you happy, Elena," he finished.

Her throat tightened. Her father was right – she hadn't allowed herself much happiness since her mother died. None of them had. "I know," she whispered, tugging the borrowed shawl up around her shoulders. "I'm just trying to make the right choices so I can get a full scholarship, like you and Mom wanted."

Empathy filled his dark brown eyes as he put a hand on her shoulder. "What I want – what your mother and I would want – is for you to study hard, get good grades, but still find some time to enjoy your life. You're only young once. You work so hard all the time…and I'm so proud of you for it…but if you decided you wanted to do something a little selfish once in a while, something just for yourself, that would make you happy, I'd be all for it. You know?"

She nodded, exhaling a small laugh. "Don't make me cry – I'll make a mess of my makeup!"

Her father looked apologetic. "Sorry, hon. This probably wasn't the right time or place for that little speech."

"No, it's fine." She swiped the pads of her index fingers under both eyes, whisking away the moisture gathered there. "I think we're going to take off soon though, so I'll see you at home later, okay?"

"Okay. Have a good rest of your night, sweetie." Grayson patted her arm and wandered off toward the kitchen, leaving Elena to take some deep breaths and try to regain her composure. A passing waiter stopped to offer her a glass of wine from his tray. She gratefully accepted, drinking deep.

When she felt like she could again breathe without her chest aching, she returned to the main room. The dance floor was filled with elegant couples slowly spinning to Nat King Cole's classic "Unforgettable". Love felt like it really was in the air; it seemed to radiate from the faces of everyone she saw. Tyler and Vickie were dancing close together off in one corner, eyes only for each other, whatever they'd been arguing about forgotten.

For a moment, she felt jealous of all the starry-eyed couples, wishing she, too, had someone who would look at her like that. Matt had liked her, thought she was pretty, but he'd never stared at her with such clear devotion in his eyes like she saw on most of these people. No one had ever looked at her that way.

Elena shut her eyes for a moment and told herself to snap out of it. After college she'd have the rest of her life to find the man of her dreams, as Miss Lonely Love would surely advise her – if she were real, that is.

She walked around the perimeter of the room until she spotted Damon leaning against the high back of an armchair, arms folded over his chest, gazing off into the distance. His features were set in an alluring, yet implacable mask.

Approaching him, she asked, "Whatcha staring at?"

He started. "Oh, Elena. I spaced out for a moment there. Where'd you get off to?"

"Sorry for abandoning you. I needed to tell my brother something. Then my dad showed up and we ended up talking about my mom." She paused, shrugging. "And I needed a few minutes to myself after that."

Damon narrowed his eyes, looking at her closely. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed, glancing at the dancers again. "I think I've done my penance for the evening. Wanna get out of here?"

He smiled. "Sounds good."

"Great. I already said bye to Dad. Let's go thank Mrs. Lockwood and grab our coats."

They wove through the crowd until they spotted Carole chatting with Marcus Fell at the bar. Marcus was a councilman who worked with her husband, the mayor. Elena had always thought he looked down his nose at her father, so she tended to ignore him.

"Hello again, Elena," Carole said before her focus shifted to Damon. "And…Damon, isn't it?"

"Yes. We're just heading out, Mrs. Lockwood. We wanted to thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home tonight." Elena smiled at her and hoped it looked genuine.

"Oh, you're leaving so soon? The party's just getting started!" Again, her gaze darted to Damon. Elena had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. There was no denying he was attractive, but he was only four years older than Tyler, for God's sake!

"I want to get Elena home safely," Damon answered for her. "Looks like the roads are starting to get bad out there."

Carole seemed surprised. "Are they? I hadn't noticed. Maybe that's why Caroline Forbes and her date left already."

Elena held back a knowing grin. She knew exactly why Caroline and Jesse had slipped out early, and it had nothing to do with the road conditions.

They said their goodbyes and went into the entranceway, where Damon asked one of the valets to retrieve their jackets. As they waited, Jeremy passed through with another beer in his hand. He stopped when he saw them.

"You guys taking off?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty much done," Elena replied.

"Dad wants to stick around awhile longer. He's talking sidewalk de-icing with one of the city council dudes. I'll see ya later."

Before her brother could walk away, Elena remembered Bonnie's request for a photo of Damon and herself tonight, all dressed up pretty. "Jer, wait." She rummaged in her purse for her phone.

"What?"

"Can you…hold on." She sighed, looking back up at him. "I was gonna ask you to take a pic of us, but I can't find my phone." With a frown she added, "I think I might've left it on my dresser." From the corner of her eye, she saw Damon glance at her in surprise.

Jeremy's brows shot up comically. "You? Forget your phone? That's like you forgetting a finger!"

Elena rolled her eyes. "Very funny. You have yours?"

"Yeah."

"Can you take it please?"

Still chuckling, her brother said, "Sure." He held his phone in front of his face, one eye squinting at the image on the small screen. "Snuggle close, you two."

She felt her cheeks heat up – no, check that – her entire body heat up as Damon slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.

As she was tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the flash went off. "Take another one. I wasn't ready!" she exclaimed with a note of irritation.

Jeremy sighed. "Fine. Now smile pretty. Three, two, go."

Damon and Elena both grinned as he took another shot. Jeremy held his phone out for his sister's approval.

Elena scrutinized the photo carefully. Damon's hand was on the side of her lower ribcage and his head leaned close to hers, looking for all the world like this was something he did every day, cuddle up to her. He was grinning, with eyes flared wide. The flash had been bright enough that you could clearly see their particular shade of intense blue, even in the dim light of the Lockwood's front hallway. He looked sinfully delicious, but then again, he always did. Turning her attention to herself, she thought she appeared…young. And kind of tired. But the smile on her face was genuine, so it would have to do.

"Thanks, bro. That's great. Can you send it to my phone?"

"Will do. Night." With that, he disappeared down the hallway.

Seconds later the valet came around the corner with their jackets. Damon took them both and tucked a folded bill into the guy's hand, earning a grateful smile. Turning to Elena, he again held her coat out for her to slip her arms into. She wondered if his mother had taught him such good manners, or if he'd just picked these things up on his own. None of the boys she knew behaved like that.

When they stepped outside, Elena was not all that surprised to see it was snowing. What surprised her, however, was how much had fallen in the two hours and a bit that they'd been indoors. Every car, every hedge, every branch of every tree was coated in a thick shroud of white. Fat snowflakes poured down, making even seeing across to the other side of the driveway difficult.

"Wait here," Damon told her, taking in the conditions with concern. "I'll go clean off the Jeep and pull it up."

"Thanks. I guess we'll have to forgo a snow fight tonight, huh?"

He flashed her a smirk. "I'm up for it if you are. With you hampered by that tight little dress I might even have the advantage for once."

Elena laughed. "True. But I think I'd better pass this time, if you don't mind too much. I'll let you win the next one to make up for it."

"Let me win?" He chuckled. "I don't think so. Next time I'll kick your ass fair and square." Before she could protest, he added, "I'll be right back." Trotting down the steps, he made his way to where the Jeep was parked along the driveway. It wore a heavy white blanket.

In the time she stood waiting under the porch overhang, two older couples she knew also left, stopping to say goodbye to Elena as they walked past. She shivered under her woolen coat as she watched Damon in the distance clearing off snow. At long last he pulled up in front of the entrance, jumped out and came around to open her door. Holding out a hand, he helped her down the steps and guided her safely inside the vehicle. She gave him a grateful smile, impressed by all his chivalry.

"I'm sure the main road will be better," he remarked as the Jeep pushed through the snow along the driveway. They turned onto Route Four, heading back toward town. Tire tracks split the layer of white on the pavement, but it was obvious no plows had been along yet.

Damon was silent, concentrating on driving. The snow sleeted down in the glow of his headlights. The rhythmic thump and swish of the windshield wipers filled the interior; they had their work cut out for them tonight.

They'd only been driving for a little over five minutes when two spots of red glowed through the swirling white in front of them. A road block. Elena's hands clenched into fists as she realized there must have been an accident up ahead. She prayed there hadn't been any serious injuries, and was relieved she knew her father and brother were still at the Lockwood's.

Pumping the brakes a few times, Damon pulled over to the shoulder as smoothly as he could without losing control. "Guess we'll have to find another way," he said with a frown. "Or should we just go back to the party and hope the plows get things cleaned up in a few more hours?"

Without any hesitation Elena replied, "No. I know a way. Go back about half a mile and there'll be a road on the left. I can to get us to my place from there."

"You really don't want to return, huh?"

She laughed. "I really don't."

Damon made a three-point turn – which actually ended up being more like a four or five-point turn to keep them out of the ditch – and headed back the way they'd come. He drove carefully, keeping an eye on the left side of the highway for a side road. The reduced visibility didn't help.

"There it is," Elena said suddenly, pointing.

He was almost past it when he spotted the narrow road, and he hit the brakes harder than he'd intended. The Jeep began to fish-tail, but Damon steered into the skid and brought them around the corner safely.

Elena had been in her dad's car in conditions like this many times, and although it made her a bit nervous, after eighteen winters she was pretty used to it. And she already knew Damon was a good driver.

"Okay, so we go down this road for a couple miles and then there'll be another turn on the left. It winds a bit, but will eventually bring us out to the back side of town." She reached over and switched the stereo on, but the storm had made the local signal too full of static to understand. Damon hit the CD button instead and the thumping of the wiper blades became lost behind a melodious male voice accompanied by a gentle guitar.

"Oh," Elena said. "This is pretty."

Damon spared a glance her way. "It's Father John Misty. Formerly of Fleet Foxes. Heard of them?"

She shook her head.

"They're from Seattle. Indie rock. I saw them play live in Richmond two years ago and they were amazing."

"Huh. Believe it or not, I've never been to a concert," she admitted.

"Really?" He darted his eyes to her again. "Elena, have you ever been out of Mystic Falls?"

"Of course! Well, do school trips to a museum in Lynchburg and to see play in Roanoke count?"

"Um, not really." He chuckled. "That's just-"

"Sad. I know," she finished for him.

"I wasn't going to say sad," he protested.

Elena laughed. "Sure you were. I know I have no life. But I'll be getting out of here for college at the end of summer. Though it sure feels like it right now, it's really not so far away."

He was just about to speak again, possibly to explain what he really meant to say, when she loudly interjected, "Crap! There's the turn!"

Too late, the Jeep sailed right on past it. Damon came to a careful stop and put it in reverse, backing up slowly until he could negotiate the turn. This road was in even worse shape than the last one. He suspected there was now gravel underneath the thick layer of snow instead of pavement.

The driving snowflakes reflected the glow from his headlights back at them, making seeing their surroundings nearly impossible. Damon tried to stay in what he assumed was the middle of the road, away from the sides where they might get stuck. When it bent to the right, he heard Elena mutter, "Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just…that didn't seem right. But I haven't been on this road since last summer."

Now they were on an uphill incline that seemed to be growing steeper. Then came another sharp curve, this time to the left.

"Huh. I don't know, Damon. I'm starting to think we must have gotten on the wrong road somehow."

"Should I turn around?" He nudged the brakes.

Elena leaned forward, squinting through the windshield into the gloom. "Maybe?"

Damon brought the Jeep to a halt on the slope. As he gripped the steering wheel and shifted into reverse again, Elena couldn't help noticing how white his knuckles were against the black leather. They began to edge backward, curving to the left as he attempted to make another three-point turn.

Suddenly the nose swung higher as they slid downhill. Fast.

"Fuck!" Damon exclaimed, as with a crunching sound the rear of vehicle came to an abrupt stop. Against a snow bank. In what could only be the ditch.

Father John still sang his sweet song, while the headlights illuminated nothing but swirling clouds of white.

* * *

><p>Elena gasped, unable to find her voice to speak.<p>

"Are you okay?" Damon asked anxiously. His eyes were filled with worry.

She inhaled another deep breath and took mental inventory of her body's well-being. "Yeah," she managed. "You?"

"I'm fine. But I don't think I can get us out of this."

She focused on the position of the vehicle. "The back end's in the ditch?"

"Seems that way. I'm really sorry, Elena. Your dad's gonna kill me. You don't happen to have the number for the nearest tow truck on your phone, do you?" He reached out to silence the stereo.

She rummaged around on the floor until she found her clutch – it had rolled beneath her seat. She groped around inside, but didn't feel her phone. At first she was confused. Where was her phone? Then she remembered. "Oh, crap. I forgot. I left it on my dresser earlier. Can I use yours to call my brother?"

Damon pulled his phone from inside his jacket and handed it to her. "Thanks," she muttered. She held her finger over the numbers, but her mind was blank, still in shock maybe. It took her a moment to realize she didn't actually know his number. It was stored in her phone along with all the other numbers, but she didn't have it memorized. She stared down at the keypad, trying to make her brain work, trying to just _think_.

Finally she handed it back to Damon with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I don't remember Jer's number. Can you call Zach? Ask him to please look up the number for Mayor Lockwood's house for us?"

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one who got us stuck." He hit a few buttons. After what seemed like a very long time, Elena heard him speak to his uncle. He explained the situation and then waited while Zach went to retrieve the town directory. A couple minutes later, Damon punched in the Lockwood's number and returned his phone to Elena. "You'd better make it quick," he whispered. "The battery's getting low."

Her eyes widened as she held it to her ear. Very soon they would be without a way to communicate. Which might become a serious problem.

"'Lo?" a male voice answered.

"Hi, this is Elena Gilbert calling. Could you please find my father, Grayson Gilbert, and put him on the phone? It's a bit of an emergency."

"Hold on." She heard the clunk of the receiver being dropped against a hard surface.

The sound of music and people talking in the background filtered in. The wait felt like an eternity as Elena eyed Damon with worry. What if his phone died before her dad got there?

She held her breath and prayed: _Pick up, please just pick up already!_

"Elena?" It was Grayson, and he sounded alarmed. "What's going on? You guys alright?"

With a relieved sigh, she said, "Yes, Daddy. We're fine, but we've gotten stuck in a ditch on one of the back roads. We need your help."

She described the route they'd taken and he assured her he would call Dougie Washburn, who owned Mystic Falls' sole tow truck, to come pull them out just as soon as he hung up. He was gone before she could explain that the only phone they had was about to lose its charge.

Handing it back to Damon, Elena pulled her coat tighter around her. "He's calling the tow truck for us. Hopefully we won't be stranded out here for long."

Damon pressed his lips into a tight line and looked away.

"What?"

"I hope it's not too long." He sighed, turning back to her. "Because that's not our only shitty luck tonight. I'm almost out of gas."

Elena sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you kidding?"

"I would not kid you about something like that. I meant to fill up before I picked you up and was running short on time, so I just figured I'd do it later." He shook his head, smacking the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "I'm _such_ an idiot!"

"How much is left?"

Damon leaned forward to examine the gauge on the dash. "Not much. We should probably shut it off to conserve what's remaining, just in case we get too cold waiting and need to turn the heat back on."

"Oh." Her brain still felt thick. It must be from the wine, she thought. She wasn't used to drinking.

With clear reluctance, Damon killed the engine. He stretched an arm behind her into the back seat and retrieved the plaid blanket. "This should help you keep warm," he told her, unfolding it and spreading it across her lap.

"What about you?"

He pulled his gloves from his pocket and put them on. "I'll be fine," he replied grimly.

When the motor stopped, all light from the dashboard and headlights went off with it. They sat for a few minutes without speaking, listening to the wind gusting around the sides of the Jeep and peppering snow pellets against the glass.

Elena was not dressed to be outdoors in weather like this, but she tried to conceal her growing chills. Eventually her eyes adjusted to the sparse light from the white outside reflected into the vehicle. Looking at Damon's profile as he stared into space, she swore she saw him shivering.

"You're cold."

He glanced at her. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry. Someone will show up to pull us out soon."

She thought about the accident out on Route Four, and the road conditions, and the people who would be driving on them as they left the Valentine's party, and the strong possibility they were not the only ones in need of help tonight. "It might be a while," she said doubtfully.

Damon was quiet for a few moments. Then he turned to her. "Why don't we play a game to pass the time?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Flashing a mischievous smile, he asked, "Have you ever played _Never Have I Ever_?"

Elena's brows shot up in surprise. "No, but I know what it is. Isn't that a drinking game?"

"Usually, yep. But we can play it without doing shots."

"So instead of drinking, we just admit if we haven't…done stuff, then?"

He exhaled a low chuckle. "I'm game if you are. What d'ya say?"

With her mind still fuzzy from alcohol, Elena wasn't sure a game where you admitted your life inexperience was such a great idea. On the other hand, it could be a good opportunity to get to know Damon better, and it _would_ help keep them amused while they waited. She shrugged. "Okay. You first."

He thought for a moment. "Never have I ever…worked in a coffee shop."

She laughed. "Well you already know I do, so that one doesn't really count. Hmm. Never have I ever…smoked a cigarette."

In the dim light she saw one of his eyebrows arch. "I bet you think I have to take an invisible shot right now. But you'd be wrong."

"Really?" She was definitely not expecting that.

"Really. My mom had asthma, and my brother has it, too. Smoking was always verboten, and I never had any urge to try it."

"Huh. Okay, your turn."

"Never have I ever…shot up heroin."

Elena snorted. "That's good to know. Obviously I haven't either."

"Hey, you might have! I don't know what you're like when I'm not around. Maybe you're a party girl?"

She pulled the blanket up tighter around her. "Never have I ever been a party girl. Like you ever once thought I was!"

"Me, neither - although I've been to my fair share of parties." He got quiet as he tried to think of something good. With a lecherous smirk, he said, "Never have I ever…had a three-way."

Clapping a hand to her mouth, she stifled a laugh. "Um…never have I-'"

"Hold on, you didn't answer my Never!" Damon interrupted.

Her cheeks were hot; it was the only part of her that was right now. "No! Of course I haven't! I've barely…" She stopped. Was she really prepared to talk about sex with him? The fog over her mind had started to clear, but only a little. She sighed. "I've barely done anything, let alone something crazy like that."

"Touchy subject?" Elena could hear the smile in his voice.

"No, it's okay." She looked out the window, but could see nothing but shadows and snow. "We might be stuck here a while. I trust that whatever we admit from this little game will be kept in strictest confidence?"

"Of course. Cross my heart." He made motions in the shape of an X in front of his chest.

"Fine." She took a deep breath. "Never have I ever done…um…oral."

Damon's head swiveled toward her. She held her breath, waiting for the laugh, waiting for the shock. She didn't get either. "Truth?"

"Truth."

"You got me on that one," he said evenly, raising his fist toward his mouth and pretend-shooting a drink. He stared at her for a few moments. Then his voice softened. "Are you a virgin, Elena?"

She looked away, pursing her lips. "That's a bit personal, isn't it?"

"This whole game is personal. We're getting know one another, right? And I promised I'd never reveal your secrets."

Her mind flashed to Vickie and Tyler's earlier argument_. You don't know the half of my secrets_, she thought.

With resignation, she said, "Since you didn't phrase it with a 'Never have I ever' I don't think I have to answer that. But I will anyway, just because. No. I'm not."

"Ah."

Elena turned her face back toward him. "Are you surprised?"

"No, not really. Are you embarrassed to talk about this stuff?"

A wave of shivers came over her. She rearranged the blanket over her lap again and hoped he hadn't noticed. "It's fine." Another quiet sigh. "Your turn."

Damon frowned. "You're freezing." He turned the engine back on, and air began to blow from the vents, making her shake harder. She wanted to tell him he should save what gas was left, but the idea of heat was just too tempting.

They played for a while longer, each trying to keep the subjects as light as they could manage. Elena learned that Damon had never played football, eaten at Cracker Barrel or seen _The Bachelor_. Damon learned that Elena had never sung karaoke, seen the ocean, or flown in an airplane. By the time the engine sputtered and stopped, he was imagining taking her on a trip down to Miami so they could swim in the sea during the day and get drunk in karaoke bars at night. Just as friends of course. Although she _was_ incredibly sexy in that red dress that showed so much leg. And just as he was mentally reprimanding himself for thinking those thoughts, the gas ran out.

"Don't worry," he blurted. "The tow truck will be here any minute and I'll pay him to take you home first and then drop the Jeep at the gas station. Everything will be fine."

"D-do I seem worried?"

He looked at her with concern. "You seem cold. I might have another blanket in the back. Let me look." With that he twisted around and scrambled over the center console into the backseat, reaching into the storage space behind it and feeling around. After a minute, he sighed. "Nope. Sorry. I guess there's just the one."

Elena swiveled to look at him, eyes wide in the dark. "You're just as cold as I am, Damon. What if they can't find us for hours yet? It's still snowing like crazy, and I'm not even sure which side road we're on. We could be stuck here all night!"

He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "Don't freak out."

"I'm not," she replied. She shifted around so her knees were under her, her body now facing him. "Stay right there." There was no easy way to do it, but she tried to keep the blanket around her lower half for the sake of modesty while she climbed inelegantly into the backseat, finally landing on the leather beside Damon.

Unwrapping it from her body, she shifted until her leg was right beside his and tucked the thick wool around both of them. "We need to conserve as much heat as we can."

The moment her body touched his, Damon went still; even his breath seemed freeze in his lungs. Elena wasn't sure if she'd crossed some invisible boundary, but right now she wasn't sure she cared. Luckily she didn't have to worry about it for long. A few seconds later he lifted his right arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

"Is that better?" she whispered after a minute or so of…not exactly awkward, but not totally comfortable silence.

He didn't answer right away. Then he murmured, "Yes. Thank you."

Elena had an idea to help break this new tension between them. "Do you wanna play some other game to keep us occupied while we wait?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Um. Well, along the same lines as the other one, how about _Truth or Dare_?"

Damon chuckled. "_That_ could get real interesting real fast, considering our very limited position at the moment."

With a smile, she replied, "Something to bear in mind. You go first."

He slid his arm down her back so it rested against her waist, shifted so his head was next to hers, ear pressed to the back of the seat, eyes locked on each other. "Truth or dare, Elena?"

Without hesitation she said, "Truth."

Damon was silent a moment. Then he smiled. "I'll make the first one easy. What perfume are you wearing?"

"It's…" She stopped herself with a small laugh. "You're going to think it's weird, but it's actually just an essential oil I dabbed on my pulse points. My mom used to use it. It's bergamot."

"It smells fantastic."

"Thanks." Elena smiled as his fingers moved against her side, rubbing lightly over her thick coat. "My turn. Truth or dare?

He shrugged. "I'll go with truth, too."

"Okay. Do you wear contacts?"

"Yes, occasionally. I usually can't be bothered though. Okay, enough with the easy questions. Time to amp up the difficulty level. Truth or dare?"

Laughing softly, she said, "I'm sticking with truth."

"Hmm." Elena thought she saw a ghost of a smile in the dim light. "I've got one. Have you ever been in love?"

"Nope," she answered without even a single second's hesitation. "That wasn't difficult at all. My turn again. Truth or dare, Damon?"

"Let's live on the edge a little. Dare."

Elena stared at him and remembered her dream. The wine buzz made her feel brave, made her feel like just once trying to be someone else, someone who wasn't always so straight laced. Bonnie's parting words from earlier popped into her mind. _Kiss a boy, will ya?_ And she decided maybe now was a good time to take a leap. What was the worst that could happen, right?

She took a deep breath. "I dare you to kiss me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Sorry for the cliffhanger! Hope you guys liked this chapter. Thanks to scarlett2112 for prereading for me. Extra huge thanks to all of you who take the minute out of your life to stop and leave me a review. Reviewers are the best readers and I love & appreciate all of you! It would mean a lot to me if you'd let me know what you think. Chapter 8 will hopefully be worth the wait. Happy Easter to those of you to celebrate it! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

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><p>"I dare you to kiss me."<p>

Damon's eyes flared. Even in the faint light of the backseat of his Jeep, Elena could see the ring of white around his irises from his obvious shock.

"You sure?" he whispered after a moment.

She nodded, just a little bit, but it was enough.

At first he did nothing, said nothing, simply stared at her waging some internal battle with himself. And she couldn't have placed a bet either way as to how it would come out.

Then he exhaled a sigh, so quiet she almost didn't hear it. His hand resting on her waist shifted up to cup her jaw, the buttery leather of his glove cool against her skin. She held her breath as he moved his face closer, stopping when their noses were maybe an inch apart. She wasn't sure he could see into her eyes in the gloom, but she could tell he was trying.

Elena's throat was dry. Her heart galloped in circles within its cage, like it wanted to escape and run away, never to be seen again. At last she couldn't stand it a second longer. She leaned forward just a little, until their lips touched.

That was all it took. Damon kissed her, his lips soft and gentle. He was tentative, careful, and she could tell he still wasn't real sure if this was a good idea or not. But he didn't back off; he didn't try to deepen the kiss, but he didn't stop it either.

A sense of need began to burn inside her. She wanted more. Elena brought her hand to his shoulder and tried to tug him closer, parting her mouth against his. She felt him hesitate, felt him freeze, and with chagrin knew he was about to retreat. For an excruciatingly long moment neither of them moved. She tried to not even breathe, lest it tip their precarious balance and chase him away. Her heart throbbed in her ears as she waited to see what he'd do.

All at once she felt a clear shift in the energy between them. The tip of Damon's tongue traced her lower lip as his fingers splayed into her hair. As Elena tilted her head to the side to allow him better access, their noses bumped. She smiled against his lips, had to hold back a nervous giggle in fact, but he didn't pull away. She'd forgotten all about feeling cold – at the moment her internal temperature was rising fast. Their tongues touched and she heard a soft moan. Did that come from her? Oh God, it was clear the wine had made her go a little crazy tonight!

Her fingers drifted from his shoulder up to his neck. The whole mood, intensity, everything had changed. They both knew it, but neither was ready to put a stop to it. Not yet. He sighed against her mouth and slid his tongue along the side of hers. He tasted of whiskey and coffee and she just couldn't get enough. Her right knee shifted as if of its own accord up over his leg, coming to rest in his lap, forcing the hem of her dress to ride up.

Elena grew braver. Her thumb stroked circles on the side of his neck. She ran her fingers into his hair at the same time as his hand slipped under the blanket to grasp the back of her thigh, pulling her leg against his waist, opening her up further. Their lips and tongues danced, and she pressed herself wantonly against his hip, searching for some release from the pressure she felt building within.

Just then headlights illuminated the inside of the vehicle and they shot away from each other like two magnets of matching polarity. Elena nearly groaned in disappointment at the sight of their suddenly not-so-welcome rescuer. _If only he'd been delayed just a few more minutes, _she thought with frustration. Wiping his lips, Damon scrambled over the center console and arranged himself back into the driver's seat. She straightened her skirt and ran her fingers over her hair, trying to refocus her mind, calm her heartbeat, even out her breathing.

_Oh my God_. Had she really just about climbed into Damon's lap, rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat? What the hell was _wrong_ with her? Her face burned with embarrassment as she tucked the blanket around her legs again, pushing her back against the seat and inhaling deep cold breaths as the tow truck stopped in front of them.

Without a word, Damon got out, wrenched open the rear door and offered his hand to help her climb outside. The snow in the ditch was deep – up to his knees - and he lifted her with seeming ease over the bank and onto the edge of the road. As Elena watched him clamber over the hard packed snow to greet their new arrival, she glanced nervously at Dougie Washburn, wondering if he'd noticed she'd emerged from the back instead of the front. She was pretty sure he hadn't – he was too busy hooking Damon's Jeep up to his tow truck.

Before long they had squished into the warm cab of the truck and were on their way back to Mystic Falls. Space was limited. Their thighs and shoulders pressed together and Damon's left arm rested along the back of the seat behind Elena so they would both fit onto the passenger side of the bench seat. Damon made small talk with Dougie a little, but neither he nor Elena spoke to each other.

When they finally pulled up in front of her house, Damon helped Elena down from the high seat, but once on the ground, dropped her hand, walking beside her to the door.

"Damon…" she started, wanting to break past the weirdness that had settled between them.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he cut in firmly. "Not too early though."

"Thanks for being my date. I had a great night."

His eyebrows shot up. "I got us stuck in a ditch in a snowstorm. Not sure that qualifies as a great night."

Elena stifled a yawn. "It wasn't so bad. If I had to be stuck with someone, I'm glad it was you. And it all worked out."

"Yeah." He sighed. "You should go in and get some sleep. I'll text you when I get home. Goodnight, Elena."

She badly wished he'd lean in and kiss her again, though she was astute enough to know he wouldn't. Because no matter what had happened at the end of it, it had _not_ been a date. Instead she just offered a small and sleepy smile. "Night."

* * *

><p>A hard winter sun shone through the cracks in her blinds and cast too-bright lines across her bed, rousing Elena from a restless sleep. Her first thought was that she was thirsty. Her second was that getting up seemed like too much effort and she'd rather just go back to sleep. She turned over, squinting at the clock on her nightstand through bleary eyes. With an alarmed groan she realized it was past eleven. Then her eyes shot wide as a third much more alarming thought kicked in. Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, her fingers unconsciously pressing against her lips as she recalled the events of the night before.<p>

"Oh God," she murmured, clapping a hand over her eyes as memories of being with Damon in the backseat of his Jeep flooded over her. Her face grew hot. What had she done?

Stretching out blind fingers toward her night table, she groped for her phone, pulling it to her at the same time as her other hand dragged the covers over her head. In the dim light below the blankets she saw he'd texted her at just after two-thirty in the morning. _Home safe & sound. Talk to you tomorrow._

Elena sighed. It was now tomorrow. What exactly were they going to say to each other next time they spoke? Would they just pretend the kiss never happened, act like everything was normal? Or would he want to discuss it? And if he did, how would that even go?

She sighed again, returning the phone back to the table. Her head fell hard against her pillow. If only she could just fall back into oblivious sleep, but unfortunately that wasn't an option. She just had too much to do to lie in bed agonizing over every detail of last night. And it would serve no purpose other than frustration.

Dragging herself from the warmth of her blankets, she stumbled with half-lidded eyes down the hall to the bathroom. A shower, followed by a cup of strong coffee, would help clear her head. She needed to figure out what she would say to Damon if he brought their kiss up. Because as fabulous – as mind-blowing – as it had been, it couldn't happen again. It wouldn't be fair to either of them if they started something she would have to put an end to in a few months. It would just cause unnecessary pain, and she refused to do that to him. Or to herself.

After a hot shower, Elena sat in the kitchen skimming through the paper as she enjoyed her toast and much-needed coffee. Both her father and Jeremy were out, presumably at church, and she was grateful they had let her sleep in and skip today's service.

She glanced up when her phone buzzed on the tabletop.

Damon: _How are you feeling today?_

She replied, _Better now, thanks. You?_

Elena was rinsing off her dishes in the sink, about to go pull out her homework, when another text came through.

_Is it okay if I pop by?_

She frowned. She did want to talk to him. It wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but it needed to get out of the way so they could go back to being friends - _if_ he still wanted to be her friend after hearing what she had to say. She tried to ignore the part of her heart that jumped at the thought of seeing him again soon, especially after what had happened the night before. If they were going to be able to maintain a successful friendship she'd have to get a better handle on her reactions to him.

Somehow she missed the sound of her father's car pulling up in the driveway. The front door opened and Grayson and Jeremy came inside, letting in a blast of arctic air as they stomped snow from their boots onto the rubber mat.

"Good afternoon Sleeping Beauty." Her father greeted her with a wide smile.

She returned his grin. "Thanks for not waking me up for church today, guys. I appreciate it."

"I figured you deserved it after last night. But don't scare me like that again, okay?"

"I won't." Then she remembered Damon's text. Having a private and important conversation with her family in the house would be difficult. "Can I borrow the car for a few hours? I want to go check in on Damon."

Her dad's smile widened and he tossing her his keys. "It's all yours. Don't take any back roads, though."

"I don't plan on it. Thanks Dad."

Elena picked up her phone and texted back:

_How about I come to you instead? Just tell me when._

A minute later, he sent: _Okay. I'll be here all afternoon_, _so drop by anytime_.

As she walked down the hallway to her bedroom to change into something a tad more presentable than her current attire of leggings and an old hoodie, she typed, _See you in 20_.

* * *

><p>The laneway leading up to the Salvatore boarding house was nearly as long as the Lockwood's. Elena drove carefully, although it had been plowed since the storm the previous night. Sunlight glinted off the layer of fresh snow across the wide front lawn; it glimmered like a field of diamonds.<p>

She pulled up in front of the large Tudor mansion and parked beside Damon's Jeep. There were a few scratches in the paint on the back end, and the bumper was twisted and dented, but she was relieved to note it didn't appear to have sustained much damage otherwise.

Her boots crunched on the hard packed snow of the walkway leading up to the big wooden front door. A tarnished and antique-looking iron door knocker in the shape of a lion's head was mounted right in the center of it. Elena examined it for a moment before lifting the heavy ring and banging it firmly against the metal, once, twice, then a third time for good measure.

For a few moments she waited, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her cheeks rosy from the nip in the air. At last she heard the squeak of the old hinges as the door was pulled wide. Damon stood framed within, squinting against the sudden glare.

"Hey. Come on in."

Elena stepped into the gloom of the entranceway, the large door making a resounding thud as he shut it behind her. She was temporarily blinded from the sudden change from bright to dim, and reached for the wall to steady herself as her eyes adjusted.

"Better leave your coat on for now. This old place doesn't hold heat very well."

Damon led her into the cavernous drawing room. The vaulted ceiling was high above, and she could see the polished oak railing along an upper floor hallway. The entire room was paneled in dark wood with paintings of local landscapes decorating the walls. Strategically placed high-backed leather furniture bracketed a large fieldstone fireplace. It was meant to look rustic and welcoming, but in Elena's opinion was far too spacious to be cozy.

"Do you want the full tour?" he asked.

She wasn't sure if she really did, but to be polite she agreed. Truthfully she just wanted to get the conversation they needed to have over with, so she could go back to feeling comfortable around him, instead of this crazy tension that crept over her every time she looked his way.

The house was far too large for the two men living in it. She couldn't imagine how Zach must have rambled around in this place alone before Damon moved in. Just as he had warned, most of the rooms were chilly, and Elena was glad she'd taken his advice and left her jacket on. She pulled it more closely around her as they walked through the dining room, kitchen, sitting room and library. In the study a fire was burning merrily, and Damon's uncle sat reading the paper in an overstuffed armchair pulled up close to it. Zach greeted her politely, offering her a drink, which she declined, and asking after her father before Damon ushered her out to continue the tour.

At last they got to his bedroom. Her heart rate sped up as, with one arm outstretched, he held the door open for her and she had to pass close to his body to enter. In keeping with the design of the rest of the house, his room was also large and furnished with plenty of polished wood. Elena was pleased to see another fire burning in the fireplace across from the foot of his bed. The bed itself was huge – king-sized at least, with four thick mahogany posters delineating each corner. A light gray duvet covered it, and a thick book with a leather bookmark sticking out sat on one of the pillows. A precariously balanced stack of more books filled the lower shelf of the bedside table. The entire room smelled of an enticing combination of burning wood, leather and a faint hint of Damon's cologne. Now this room - this was truly her idea of cozy.

Elena walked over and plopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace, shedding her coat and folding it over the back of the chair by her feet. The heat radiating from the fire warmed her entire body. It felt amazing; she was tempted to just stretch out like a cat and nap right here all afternoon.

Damon took a seat on the end of his bed and looked over at her.

"Sooo…" they both started at the same time. Then they laughed.

"Sorry," he said. "Ladies first." He swept a hand in her direction, urging her to continue.

"About last night…"

"Last night. Yeah."

"Yeah," Elena sighed. "Not the getting stuck part, but the…other part."

His mouth curved into a knowing grin. "The other part? You mean the part where you dared me to kiss you?"

She bit her lip. "Um, yeah. That. So, the thing is-"

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend, Elena. I got out of a rough situation last year, and I'm just not in the right place mentally for something like that right now. I value your friendship a lot, but…"

With a small grin, she cut in. "I thought you were going to let me talk first?"

He flushed and nodded, focusing on the flames crackling behind the grate. "Right, right. Sorry. Go on."

"It's funny you should say that though, because I was about to tell you something similar. Not about previous relationships, but I'm going to be leaving for school in August – at least I hope so – and I have so much to do between now and then. Between work and studying, I don't have much free time, and I have to keep my grades up so I can earn a scholarship. I promised myself I'd focus just on my schoolwork until the end of senior year. And I don't want to get too attached to anyone and then have to leave. It wouldn't be fair to either of us." She'd been talking rapidly, and when she stopped she took a deep breath and fell silent.

Damon met her eyes and gave her a tight smile. "Okay, perfect. Friends it is, then."

"So we're good?"

"Yeah. Great. I was worried I might… well I didn't want to have to disappoint you. That would've sucked if I'd wrecked our burgeoning friendship over something as silly as one little kiss." He was still smiling, but his eyes were serious.

"Yeah, I was kind of concerned about that, too. But I'm glad you feel the same way." She rose to her feet and picked up her coat, moving toward the door. "On that note though, I should probably get home and do some actual studying this afternoon."

Damon walked with her to the front door. "Next time bring your books with you. You can study here if you ever need some peace and quiet. I promise to not bug you too much – I'll just read and keep your mug of hot chocolate filled."

She considered his suggestion for a few seconds, thinking about her brother and his friends playing noisy videogames in her living room on certain Sunday afternoons. "I might just take you up on that," she told him. "Have a good rest of your day, Damon."

Elena got into her dad's car and started the engine, but she didn't shift it into Reverse right away. _Something as silly as one little kiss_, he'd said. Truthfully his words _had_ stung, much to her intense frustration. Their kiss hadn't felt either silly or minor. At the time, it had actually felt pretty major, and she'd had to work hard afterward to convince herself it had been a mistake. To know he also thought it was a mistake hurt more than she wanted to admit.

But it was for the best. Just being friends was the very most they could be to each other, anyway. And she could do it. Sure he was attractive, and she was pretty sure there was a spark between them that went both ways - at least last night there certainly had been - but it wasn't like she was in love with him. Hell, she'd never been in love with anyone, ever, and she certainly wasn't going to start now. Not when her very future depended on her ability to succeed academically.

They were friends. And it was all good.

Dammit.

* * *

><p>Damon felt kind of strange after Elena left. He knew he should be relieved she thought last night's kiss was no big deal, and that she agreed they should just be friends and nothing more. And he <em>was<em> relieved. Well, mostly. There was a small part of him that felt a bit…disappointed.

That night he lay in bed for a long time listening to the sounds of the massive old house settle around him and the faint spits and crackles as the dying embers smoldered in the fireplace. It was not the first time he'd had trouble sleeping because all the skittering thoughts in his head wouldn't shut up – not by a long shot – but it was the first night in a very long time that his thoughts were not tormented by hurt and anger over Stefan and Katherine's betrayal.

To distract himself, he tried to come up with some sort of plan for his future. When that failed, he switched on the light and attempted to get immersed in his book. He even wrote, then crumpled up, three different versions of a rambling and incoherent letter to Miss Lonely Love.

Sometime in the wee hours before dawn, Damon at last fell into a listless sleep.

At one point he dreamed he was back at the Valentine's party, dancing with Elena. This time her body was pressed against him, her face close to his. She smelled incredible. Like strawberries. And sex.

He gulped. Every inch of him was very aware of, and very turned on by, her proximity. And she knew it. Insistent fingers tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck, trying to bring his lips down to hers.

"Your dad…" he managed to mumble, doing his best to resist while all these oblivious strangers twirled in circles around them. But all he wanted was to give in. He wanted to kiss her more than anything right now - not to mention doing other, more sinful things to her. She looked absolutely edible in that tight red dress that showcased every curve. And those long shapely legs…all he could think about was those legs wrapped around him.

It was as if she could read his mind. She smiled at him, a sexy, dangerous little smile that was full of dirty, dirty promises. Then she stepped back and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his and leading him out of the room, into the front hallway, and then up the stairs as fast as her high-heels could go. He found he had no trouble keeping up.

The lights were off in the hallway upstairs, making it difficult to see where she was taking him. Elena dragged him along until she stopped abruptly in front of a door. His heart raced as she pulled it open and tugged him inside. As soon as the door closed behind them, he took over, pushing her against the nearest wall and attacking her lips, diving his fingers into her hair, messing her perfect curls, claiming her.

She moaned into his mouth as she ran her hands inside his jacket and up his chest to the collar of his shirt. Instead of unbuttoning it, she grabbed each side and yanked, sending buttons flying as she tore it open.

Damon pulled back a few inches and stared at her with equal measures of awe and lust. He didn't think he'd ever been more turned on in his entire life.

He picked her up and spun her around, bringing her to rest on her back on the nearby bed. Lowering his body to hers, he kissed her again, hard, determined, his free hand roaming her body, finally caressing those luscious curves he'd been distracted by all night. He found the hem of her dress and pulled the fabric up to her waist, running his fingers over the soft skin of her bare thigh as he went.

Elena gasped and dove her small tongue into his mouth, lifting her hips as he ground himself against her. Lord Almighty – this girl was going to kill him before this night was through! His brain went into overdrive, filled with one thought and one thought only: he needed to be inside her; he needed it right the fuck now. And from her urgent movements below him and the breathy mews she was making, she needed it just as much as he did.

He slid his fingers under the elastic at the side of her panties and dragged them down her thighs, tossing them over his shoulder into the dark. With increasing desperation, he then reached between them and unzipped his pants. She grasped the waistband and pushed them down, as eager as he was to free him from his confines.

Just as her nimble fingers found their way inside his boxer-briefs, the sound of the ringing boarding house phone woke him up.

He blinked, at first confused by the early morning sunshine beaming through the crack in his curtains. Pushing his head back into his pillow, he wrapped an arm over his eyes and groaned. It was just a dream. But, _what_ a fucking dream!

Damon sighed. Too bad it was never going to happen.

Dreams could be fun as hell, but they could also confuse the waking mind. He didn't need confusion. He needed to stay focused on the promises he'd made to himself. He needed to remember that he'd made them for some very good reasons.

But _damn_.

Hauling his reluctant ass from the warmth of his bed, he headed for the bathroom and considered a cold shower. Better yet, maybe he should just go outside and throw himself groin-first into a snow bank. That would surely clear his…um…head.

A strong cup of coffee, a bagel, an intense workout and shower later and Damon at last started to feel like his usual self again. He wondered if Miss Lonely Love would get his letter today. And he found himself hoping like hell she'd write back.

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><p><em><strong>AN** Hope you liked this chapter. Things between these two are definitely starting to get complicated. ;) Big thanks to scarlett2112 for prereading and LoveDE for proofreading. Love you both. Huge thanks to everyone has has reviewed and favourited and recced this little fic out. You guys are beyond awesome! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter by leaving a review in the little box below. Have a wonderful weekend!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

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><p>The lunch bell rang, startling Elena out of her thoughts about the Salem Witch Trials. Mr. Tanner stopped his lecture mid-sentence as in a mad cacophony her fellow students slammed their books shut and rushed for the door. Bonnie fell into step beside Elena in the hallway en route to their lockers.<p>

"So?" she asked with a curious smile.

"So what?" Elena replied, though she knew exactly what her friend was referring to.

"So how was the Lockwood's party? How did your date with Damon go?"

"I told you it wasn't a date," Elena whispered fiercely as they turned the corner and entered the stairwell.

"Yeah, you keep saying that. Well? How was it? Did you dance with him at least?"

"Yes, we danced. It was…" She trailed off with a sigh.

"What? It was what?" Bonnie almost walked right into a tall boy in front of them because she was staring at Elena, trying to analyze her facial expression.

"Hold on." Elena led her out a side door and onto the back lawn, hurrying away from the crowd of kids already gathering right outside the entrance. Once they were out of earshot of others, she confessed to Bonnie what had happened at the party with Vickie, with Damon, and everything afterward.

"Holy shit," Bonnie exclaimed, eyebrows nearly in her hairline.

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you dared him to kiss you! Where did that side of you come from? The wine?"

Elena's face was hot. She studied her fingernails and nodded. "I can't believe I did either."

"Is he a good kisser? Did you take a pic of the two of you for me, like I asked?"

"Oh God yeah. And yes." Elena pulled out her phone and showed Bonnie the photo Jeremy had texted her the previous day.

Bonnie sucked in her breath before raising wide eyes back to her friend. "_That's_ Damon? Jesus, girl. You lucky little shit. Please don't say you chickened out and told him you just wanted to be friends after? Don't you dare tell me that!"

"Um…"

"You didn't!"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Bon. But yeah. It wasn't only me – he just wants to be friends, too. He said he's not looking for anything right now."

Bonnie laughed. "They always say that at first. Guys like that hate commitment. I'm sure he still wants to get in your pants, though. What about friends with benefits? Is that an option? Cause _damn_!"

Elena shook her head, flushing deeper. "Just friends. And I'm totally cool with that, honest. I don't know that he hates commitment - I think his ex just really did a number on him, although he doesn't talk about it and I don't want to ask." Something scratched at the back of her mind at that thought, but it fled just as fast.

Bonnie looked doubtful. She shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do. But he is cute, isn't he?"

Bonnie took Elena's arm and led her back toward the door closest to the cafeteria. "Matt is cute," she whispered, leaning close. "This guy is in a whole different stratosphere from mere 'cute', Elena. I wanna meet this hot _friend_ of yours who also happens to be an amazing kisser. I expect you to introduce us. ASAP."

Elena giggled, agreeing as they headed back inside.

* * *

><p>Wednesday evening was slow at the shop. Elena stood behind the counter chatting with Mr. Donnelly as she washed and dried the coffee pots. She had hoped Damon might stop by, but so far there had been no sign of him. Maybe he was giving her some space after the weekend's intense activities and conversations. If so, she totally couldn't blame him for staying away.<p>

After Mr. Donnelly had gone home, she pulled the letters out of her knapsack that she'd picked up from her editor at _The Herald_ on her way to work. She rifled through them, a wide smile surfacing when she noticed the familiar crow-scratch handwriting.

She read it over twice, a bit surprised by the content. This one was much more conversational than JAI's previous letters. He told her about his relationship with his ex, the one who had screwed around on him with his brother. It was clear from his words how deeply he'd loved her, and it made Elena feel angry on his behalf. What kind of a girl could do that to their doting boyfriend? Not one who really loved him, or cared much about his feelings, Elena thought.

It ended with two simple words: _Your turn_.

Which meant he wanted her to share something personal with him. But what should she write about? Her mother's death? No, she was definitely not ready to relive that. Matt? Not interesting enough. What had she ever even done that was sufficiently remarkable to tell him about? Also, she had to remember to maintain Miss Lonely Love's happily married persona. It wouldn't do to get tripped up in any lies.

Elena thought about it for a while, but couldn't settle on what to say, so she tucked his letter away to consider later. She worked on her History paper for over an hour with no interruptions. Business was always slow on cold winter weeknights, but she couldn't help worrying about her father's cash flow right now. Two bills had shown up this week with the words 'Past Due" stamped in red on the envelope. And those were just the ones she'd noticed. There could be easily more that her father had grabbed before she ever saw them. Not that late payments were unusual for them, but she couldn't help feeling that this winter things were tighter than ever. Her father always brushed off any of her questions about it, though. He was a proud man, and didn't want anyone to think he couldn't take care of his family on his own. But Elena wasn't dumb - they were barely scraping by. Even having to pay Bonnie to work last Saturday night so they could go to the Lockwood's was an additional expense she knew her dad didn't need.

No other customers came in before closing time. Much as she wished Damon's lack of appearance didn't faze her, she still felt a queer sense of melancholy as she locked up and began her frosty walk home.

Later, once Elena was tucked into her nice, warm bed, she finished her math homework, yawned, then reached to turn out the lamp. For some reason her fingers hesitated over the switch. Instead they stretched down to the floor, feeling around for her bag to pull out JAI's most recent letter. She read it over again. Something about the tone of his words made her want to reach out to him, to connect. But what to say? She sighed, folding it and putting it on her nightstand before digging out her tattered loose-leaf notebook and pen from the drawer.

Elena sat up straighter against her pillows and propped it up on her thighs. With no specific plan in mind she began to write.

_Dear JAI,_

_I was pleased to receive your letter earlier. I'm so glad you decided to write me again._

_Honestly, after reading it I can't help feeling like your ex-girlfriend took advantage of you. I'm sorry your first experience with love ended the way it did. I know it's probably hard to believe, but most women out there are nothing like her. You shouldn't write all of us off just because of one (admittedly horrible) relationship._

_Are you still hanging out with the girl you'd mentioned in you previous letter you recently met? How is that going? Or have you got her locked up tight in the 'Just Friends' box because of your ex? And if so, are you sure that's truly what you want?_

_Anyway, I'll drop it for now but rest assured I'll probably keep asking you hard questions and giving you my opinion if we continue to correspond. It's kind of what I do best._

_So, my turn, you said. I've been wracking my brain trying to decide what about me might be worth sharing. Then I realized the 'worth sharing' bit is why I was struggling. We don't know each other, so therefore we can choose to write about whatever we please._

_In stark contrast to your own childhood, I grew up poor. Well, I didn't actually understand that we were poor until I got older. My parents both worked, and they managed to make ends meet, but we kids didn't know how tight it was for them some months. Later, after a terrible tragedy struck our family, things got even tighter. I started working as a young teen in order to help make sure our bills got paid and food was on the table. I didn't mind though – I wanted to do my part and I knew my family appreciated my contribution._

_When I was young it was instilled in me that if I wanted to get anywhere in life, I'd have to work hard and not rely on other people to help me out. My mom and I used to have long talks about my future – not just what she wanted for me, but what I wanted, and how best to achieve it. Though we didn't have much money, they both supported my desire to go to college and better myself._

_Not sure why I'm telling you all this? I guess it's just to show you that anything is possible. I hope that you don't become too jaded about fixing things with your brother, or about falling in love again. Don't give up hope you'll one day be able to live your dreams._

_If I could get past the many obstacles standing in my way to find love and happiness and the life I wanted, then I feel certain that you can too. I hope eventually you will let yourself open up to loving again. Loving means making yourself vulnerable to another human being, and while I know you're not ready for that right this very moment, I want that for you someday. Because you deserve it._

_So think about that girl you just met. Or some other girl, who you maybe pass on the sidewalk, or lives up the street, or hands you your coffee every morning on your way to work. Think about telling your past hurts to go take a flying leap because you're stronger than they are, and you're going to go out there and live your life however you darn well please._

_I realize all this is easy to say from where I'm standing, but difficult to actually go out and do. But before you write me off (and stop writing to me) please just give my words some thought._

_Hope to hear from you again._

_Good luck!_

_Miss LL_

Elena narrowed her eyes and she read it over, trying to determine if it came off the way she had intended. She'd done her best to make it sound like it had been written by a woman ten years her senior, who was content with the life she now led and had wisdom to impart. It certainly didn't sound like how her friends talked to each other, so she figured she'd probably succeeded. Slipping it into her bag to mail in the morning, she turned off the lamp and rolled over to sleep.

* * *

><p>Damon was always kind of edgy anymore, but the past few days he'd been even more restless than usual. He'd spent so many hours in the gym that most of his muscle groups were staging a protest. He'd gotten through three thick-ish books. He read the newspapers – both the <em>Herald<em> and the _Richmond Times_, cleaned his bedroom and bathroom thoroughly, and played at least two, if not more, intense games of chess with his uncle. Daily. Zach had asked him several times why he was so fidgety, but he didn't have any real answers to give. His uncle, more like him than Damon had ever realized before, didn't press the issue.

Wednesday evening he found himself lying flat on his back on top of his bed, staring at the circular patterns in the plaster of the ceiling and thinking about Elena. He hadn't spoken to her since she'd left the boarding house on Sunday after they'd confirmed they both wanted no more than friendship with each other. It wasn't that he'd been deliberately avoiding her. Well okay, maybe he had, but only a little. After the smokin' hot kiss they'd shared in the backseat of his Jeep Saturday night, and then deciding after that it had been a mistake, he just didn't want things between them to be awkward. So he was giving her a little bit of space, staying away from the coffee shop for now. But he had no intention of making it a permanent thing.

It had only been three days. How was it possible he missed seeing her face so much after only three days? Had she really become so important in his life? Or was it just because he had no one else, with the exception of his uncle, to talk to anymore?

With a sigh, he rolled off the bed and trotted down the steps. As he passed the doorway to the study, he told Zach he was going out to get some air. Then he grabbed his pea coat and hat and headed into the night.

Ten minutes later Damon sat in his Jeep rubbing his hands together for warmth though the heater pumped hot air through the vents. He'd parked along the curb in the dark zone between two streetlights across the street and down a bit from Gilbert's Coffee Clutch. The light from the windows shone canted rectangles onto the packed-snow sidewalk, the hand-painted lettering on the glass making backwards shadows in the glow like some secret message in strange code.

He wasn't close enough to be noticed by anyone glancing outside, but he could make out Elena pouring coffee for a couple of middle aged guys sitting at a side table. Her dark hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore a deep red sweater and jeans. She looked amazing in red; it brought to mind how beautiful she'd looked in her dress at the Valentine's party.

She smiled, then her mouth opened in a laugh at something the men said to her. As she turned to walk away, one of them reached out and rubbed her backside. Damon frowned, his body going rigid the moment he saw it. He grabbed the door handle with every intention of jumping out and rushing in there to defend her honor. Elena, however, didn't need a knight in shining armor (or black felt as the case might be) to come to her rescue - she slapped the offending hand away without even glancing back, as casually as if she were swatting off a fly. Her smile never faltered, although Damon now doubted its veracity.

He couldn't help but grin, too. She was a strong willed girl, something he really liked about her. She didn't put up with bullshit, she knew what she wanted and she went after it. So did Katherine – God, he knew that better than anyone – but Elena was nothing like Katherine. Not as far as he could tell, anyway. She genuinely cared about other people. She wasn't the type to lie or cheat. He was sure of that much about her already.

A few minutes later the guys threw their money on the table and got up to go. Elena cleared away their mugs and wiped down the formica. It looked like she was either talking or singing to herself as she worked. Damn, she was pretty.

A flash of memory skittered across his mind of her writhing below him on a strange bed. His dream from Monday morning. Or had that been Katherine? Maybe his traitorous imagination had conjured up some strange combination of the two. Didn't matter either way – both were terrible choices of dream partners, for very different reasons.

Damon felt kind of guilty for watching her without her knowledge. If she happened to spot him, he was sure she'd think it creepy, or worse, that he was some kind of stalker. That was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't even sure why he'd come here, but he'd certainly had no untoward intentions. Maybe he'd just needed to see her face for a few minutes. She was sweeping the floor when he shifted the Jeep into drive and decided to head back home.

* * *

><p>Thursday night at the Clutch there was once again no sign of Damon. After Mr. and Mrs. Clancy left and she had the shop to herself, Elena pulled out her laptop, deciding to distract herself from wondering about him by writing her responses for her column.<p>

She picked out four and replied to them as best she could. Before she could close her Gmail, a new message popped up. Clicking it open, she read it and flushed. Another sex question. Another girl out there somewhere in the vicinity of Mystic Falls who needed advice, who wanted _her_ advice. And another girl who wasn't going to get any.

This one's boyfriend had been asking her to perform oral sex on him, and she was willing to, but didn't know how to do it right. She'd read some stuff online, but wrote that it wasn't super helpful. So she wanted Miss Lonely Love to give her some tips. Unfortunately Elena was in no place to be able to offer any suggestions, because she'd never done that, either.

Reading that message got her thinking again about her own lack of sexual experience. She felt bad that she couldn't give any advice to these girls. Elena sighed. She filed the e-mail away with the one from a few weeks ago and closed her laptop, bending down to cram it into her knapsack in frustration. Very little bothered her more than not being able to help out people who needed it.

Just as her thoughts were turning to Vickie, the bell over the front door jingled signaling a customer. Elena straightened up fast, welcoming smile plastered into place. When she saw who it was brushing the snow from his shoulders, the smile grew wider, became authentic.

As Damon approached the counter, she glanced at the clock above the door behind him. "Pushing it a little close, aren't you?" she teased.

He laughed. "Would you believe I was in the neighborhood? Saw the time and thought I'd see if you could use a lift home."

"Really?" She sounded skeptical, but pleased.

"I'd never lie to you." He noted her raised eyebrow. "I was picking up some stuff at the Easy Mart and figured I'd pop in. Hope that's okay?"

Elena nodded, still smiling, secretly delighted once again by his thoughtfulness. "A ride would be great, thanks. Let me get my coat."

The night was crisp and clear as she locked the door behind them. Twinkling pinpoints of starlight speckled the black sky, Orion perpetually chasing the Pleiades to the west above the rounded silhouettes of the mountains.

She blew out a foggy white breath as they walked to Damon's Jeep. Tonight it wore no snow to clean off, and much to her pleasure was still nice and warm inside. Elena couldn't resist a surreptitious glance into the backseat as she slid onto the passenger seat. Heat bloomed on her cheeks as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers - not to mention how she'd nearly climbed on top of him. The wine had made her a little crazy that night. Ugh. So embarrassing, especially in light of their conversation on Sunday.

"How's your week been?" he asked conversationally as he started the engine.

"Calculus test. Salem Witch Trials paper. Collection of poems due Monday. Typical high school stuff. I'm sure you don't miss it."

He chuckled. "Not that much, no. Although I never hated school. Most of it came fairly easy to me, especially English. If you want a second pair of eyes on the poetry, I'd be happy to look it over."

_Depends what I write them about_, she thought. Out loud she said, "Maybe. I'll keep it in mind."

The drive to her house was short and they pulled up against the sidewalk a few moments later. He put the Jeep into park and swiveled his upper body to face her, but didn't say anything. His expression was impassive. Again, she wished she had some sort of telepathic ability to read his thoughts.

"Well...thanks for the ride, Damon." Elena held his gaze but didn't move her fingers to the door handle.

"No problem." He just looked at her, still giving away nothing about what was going on behind those intense blue eyes.

She bit the inside of her lower lip. They had confirmed to each other they wanted to be friends, so why did this feel so damn awkward? They needed to get past this weirdness post haste. Or at least she did.

"Is the offer to study at your place still open?" she blurted. Maybe spending more time together would help speed them back to their previous comfortable rapport. It was worth a shot.

Damon's eyebrows lifted and one side of his mouth curved up in a half smile. "Sure. Mi casa es su casa."

"Pardon?"

With a laugh he replied, "It just means you're welcome any time. Not that you have much free time. When did you have in mind?"

"Um, this weekend? I can text you when I know better." Now she did reach for the door.

"Okay. Have a good night Elena."

"'Night."

* * *

><p>The Gilbert house was quiet. Not silent, but quiet. The normal subtle late night sounds that signaled all was well provided dull white noise to Elena's tumultuous thoughts. As she lay in bed, again shivering under multiple blankets, two very different things kept playing leap-frog over one another in her head. One was of the handsome guy she'd just left. The other was about those particular letters to Miss Lonely Love that she wasn't able to reply to.<p>

She blew out a frustrated sigh, thinking of her one and only sexual experience with Matt a year and a half ago. If she knew more about the subject, she might be in a better position to give advice to these girls who wrote in. To be honest, it also probably wouldn't hurt to be less naïve about such things when she went off to college in the fall. She'd make new friends, possibly far more sophisticated and experienced ones, and she didn't want to come off like some naïve little country girl.

It was late and Elena couldn't sleep, so she let her mind relax and float off to places where she might not normally let it wander. The way she saw it, the only way to solve this issue would be for her to do some practical research. Field research, you might call it. Like a science experiment. She'd need to have sex again in order to try to become more educated on the subject, to figure out what was good and what wasn't. But how could she go about getting the experience she wanted without messing up all her well thought-out intentions for the rest of her senior year? She knew finding a willing partner wouldn't be all that difficult, but she didn't want to sleep with just any guy. If she actually did this, it would have to stay a secret. She had to be able to trust him. And there needed to be no emotional strings attached, for either of them.

The answer, of course, was obvious. Convincing herself that this was a good idea was the far harder part.

With trembling hands she reached for her phone on the nightstand. Damon's _I'm home safe_ text from a couple hours ago was the most recent message. Her fingers shook as she typed a reply.

_Is it ok if I come over Sunday afternoon?_

Elena had deliberately left herself a few day's window to change her mind between now and then, but at the moment, in the dead of night, all alone and cold and lonely, it seemed like it could work.

To her surprise, her phone beeped less than a minute later. She smiled as she read it. Someone else obviously wasn't sleeping either.

_See you then. D._

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><p><strong>AN** _Happy Mother's Day to those of you with kiddos! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave me reviews - you guys are the best and I adore you all. :) The ball, which started to roll with the kiss last chapter, is picking up a bit more speed. Hope you enjoy the ride! Please let me know your thoughts by leaving me a review in the little box below. Thank you & have a wonderful rest of your day! J.  
><em>


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

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><p>When Damon walked into the study on Saturday morning with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and his most recent novel in the other, he was pleasantly surprised to find a letter addressed to JAI waiting for him on the arm of the wingchair he'd claimed as his own.<p>

He tore off the end of the envelope with his teeth and pulled out the page, scanning it over quickly. His first reaction was annoyance. Pity and pat advice – two things he neither wanted nor needed. Then he read it a second time. And sighed.

Everyone expected him to just get over it. His father, his brother, his uncle, Miss Lonely Love – everyone. But none of them really understood. None of them had ever gone through something like he had. They all thought they knew what was best for him. It drove him fucking crazy.

He put the letter in his pocket and poured himself a drink. As he was settling into the soft brown leather, the boarding house phone began to ring. Damon tried to ignore it, expecting Zach to pick up in one of the other rooms. It kept ringing. His uncle must be out. The answering machine would come on any second, though. After four more rings, he blew out an irritated huff, put his glass down and got up, stalking to the table in the corner and grabbing the receiver.

"Hello?"

The line was quiet, but he was pretty sure he could detect the sound of someone breathing.

"Hello? Anyone there? If this is some kid trying to get his kicks, I assure you I'm not even slightly amused."

Just as he was about to tell them to fuck off and hang up, he heard a soft female voice.

"Damon?"

He groaned. He should've known better than to pick up the damn phone. "The fuck do you want?"

"You're avoiding your brother."

"No shit," he snorted. What did these people really expect from him?

She sighed, loud and full of her typical Katherine put-uponness. It was one of her trademarks, although she'd rarely used it on him. "He feels awful, Damon. He's depressed. He needs you to forgive him."

"Uh huh. I got that much from our last conversation."

"So can you?"

"What? Forgive him?" He paused, taking a deep breath. "No."

"Why not? You know damn well how sorry he is. Time to stop being such a self-righteous asshole and get over it."

Jesus, now he really was annoyed. With a bitter laugh he said, "Yeah. _I'm_ the asshole here. Typical."

"He can't stand you hating him. It's eating him alive."

"So _that's_ why you called me? Not to say _you're_ sorry or to ask me to forgive _you_, but to try to convince me to ease Stefan's guilt? Figures. I'm hanging up now, Katherine."

"Wait," she blurted. "Yes, that's why I called. I know you, and I know you still care about him. You can't punish him forever. He never meant to hurt you; neither of us did. It wasn't plotted behind your back – it just…happened."

"There's a faster chance of me forgiving _you_. You were just my girlfriend. He's my brother. Family. Family doesn't do shit like that to each other."

He heard another soft sigh. "Maybe not in your limited little world, Damon, but in the real world, yes, stuff like this happens. It sucks, but it does. I would love for you to forgive me someday, but Stefan is my priority right now. Will you please just talk to him?"

Gritting his teeth, he replied, "I _have_ talked to him. I don't have anything more to say. Have a good rest of your life, Katherine. I hope you two live happily ever after – you two deserve each other."

Before she could protest further, he clicked the End Call button.

This time he didn't throw the receiver across the room. He placed it back into its cradle and returned to his chair. Swigging down the rest of the bourbon, he took the dirty glass downstairs to the kitchen and, with more calm than he would have expected, headed down the hallway to the gym.

Channeling his anger into an intense workout was the best way to deal with it these days. And he didn't want to be in too horrible a mood this weekend. Elena was coming over to study tomorrow, after all.

* * *

><p>The sermon seemed to drone on forever. Elena shifted her weight, rearranging herself on the hard wooden pew between her father and brother. She had done her best to concentrate on Pastor Marshall's words at first, but at this point she'd just given up trying. Instead she allowed her mind to wander to what she should wear, what she should say, and most of all what might end up happening when she went to the boarding house. Probably not very appropriate thoughts for church, but it was hard to focus on much else right now.<p>

Elena had been waffling over whether telling Damon her idea was really the smartest choice in the world. She'd changed her mind at least ten times since she'd come up with it. But this morning she'd woken up refreshed and excited at the thought of spending time with him today. And whatever happened between them later, well, only time would tell. Blasphemous or not, she prayed this afternoon would go the way she wanted it to.

When church was over at last, she rushed to the car, smiling politely at her fellow parishioners but not stopping to make small talk with anyone today.

Her dad gave her a knowing look as he slid into the driver's seat beside her. "In a rush to get somewhere, sweetie?" he asked.

"No." She paused. "Well, sort of. I told Damon I'd come over about one. To study there."

Grayson raised an eyebrow her way as he followed the line of cars out of the parking lot.

"He's helping me with my poetry assignment," Elena added. Not that he'd asked for an explanation, but for some reason she felt compelled to provide one anyway.

"You don't need to make excuses to visit him," he said quietly.

"I'm not!" she protested.

"Then why are your cheeks so pink?" He shot his daughter a grin. Elena chose not to respond, but she heard Jeremy chuckling from the backseat. He'd obviously overheard their exchange even with his ear-buds in.

Once they got home, she went straight to her room to change out of her church clothes. Off went the skirt and tights and blouse. On went…what? What does one even wear to a potential seduction? Elena laughed out loud to herself at her mental choice of words. Seduction. Was _that_ what she intended to do to him? It was kind of hilarious, since she had pretty much zero experience with the fine art of seducing someone. Chances were high he'd end up just laughing in her face. Oh, she knew this could go wrong in so many ways. But…it could also go really, really right.

She was clearly not a seductress, and there was no point in pretending to be someone she wasn't. Elena pulled on her usual outfit of jeans and a long sleeved tee, with a grey cardigan over it for warmth. She smoothed down her hair, put on a touch of mascara and lip gloss, then, heart already racing, grabbed her knapsack and headed for the door.

* * *

><p>When she arrived at the boarding house, she sat in her dad's car for a few moments, looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the visor and begging her heart to come down out of her throat and resume its usual place, and pace, in her ribcage.<p>

Finally she took a deep breath, shouldered her bag and went to the door.

Elena banged the heavy knocker three times. The deep clanging sound against the metal seemed to reverberate inside her all the way from her fingertips to the pit of her stomach.

Damon pulled the door open and smiled, and she smiled back, and her heart rate calmed a bit.

"Follow me back to the kitchen. Kettle's already boiling."

"Actually…" She paused as she stepped out of her boots. "I think I'd like something…different today." Some liquid courage seemed like an excellent idea. Elena wasn't sure she'd get through asking him what she wanted to ask without it.

One thick brow arched. "Different how?"

"Um. Harder?"

"Harder?" he laughed. "What did you have in mind, Miss Gilbert? Liquor?"

She blushed. Then nodded.

"Really? I have a bottle of whiskey in my bedroom. Or are you more of a vodka and juice kind of girl?" He started walking toward the steps.

She bit her lip, following him. "Uh, whiskey's fine, I think."

Damon glanced back at her with a surprised expression. When they got to his room, Elena went in and dropped her knapsack beside the chair, falling into the same sitting position on the rug in front of the fire as she had the previous Sunday.

She heard the clink of glass and looked up to see him turning two tumblers upright on top of his dresser. He lifted a crystal decanter and poured a small amount of amber liquid into one. Handing it to her, he said, "Try this. See if it meets your needs."

Elena raised the glass and put her nose into it, breathing in the intense scent of the alcohol swirling around in the bottom. All the hairs on the inside of her nostrils curled and she quickly turned her face away. She knew Damon was watching her reaction, so she braced herself and took a not-small sip.

The result was instantaneous. Her eyes widened and teared up. Her throat tried to gag, but she managed to suppress it with a cough as the whiskey burned a fiery trail all the way to the pit of her stomach.

"Well?" he asked with a smirk. Grimacing, she blinked, trying to find her voice. She didn't want Damon to realize she'd never drunk hard liquor before.

"It's…fine." Elena began to raise the glass to her lips again, intending to down the rest in one gulp. Before she could, Damon stepped forward and intercepted it.

"Let me get some ice for that for you. It'll take the edge off a bit."

She smiled up at him with gratitude. "Thanks."

He went downstairs to the kitchen, leaving Elena alone for a few minutes. She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, trying to rid it of the bitter taste of the whiskey. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out her English folder containing the poems she'd written so far. Two more to go and then the assignment would be finished. She'd chosen the theme of heat; it seemed fitting during the frigid heart of winter. Maybe this afternoon she'd be inspired by a whole new way to keep warm on a cold day?

_Oh my God_. She had clearly lost her mind. She dropped her burning face to the tops of her knees and laughed softly. One swig of whiskey and her brain was already in the gutter. Damon was going to wonder who the hell this girl was in front of him when she told him her idea. She imagined the expression on his face when he heard it. Those incredible blue eyes would widen in shock. His full lips would curve into a grin as he wondered if she'd gone off her rocker. God, those lips…she remembered the feel of them very well. So soft, yet firm at the same time. Would she get to kiss him again? Could it happen today? Might they even make a mess of that oh-so-neatly made bed over there?

Elena giggled again, at first scolding herself for such lusty thoughts. Then she told herself there was nothing wrong with them. Lust was fine. He was gorgeous and she was a warm-blooded heterosexual teenage girl. Lust was normal in this situation, expected even. As long as they trusted each other, a little bit of lust could go a long way toward solving her problem.

As long as their attachment to one another went no further than good friends who respected each other, everything should work out just perfect.

She opened her notebook and looked over some of her hastily scrawled ideas for the next two poems. As she was jotting down the line 'flames dancing over my sweat-dappled skin', Damon came back into the room, two fat ice cubes clinking in her glass. He poured a little more whiskey over them and she heard them crack, the ice reacting to the warm liquid it now floated in.

He handed her the tumbler. "See if that's any better," he instructed before filling his own glass about a third of the way. Without ice.

Elena took a tentative taste. The frozen cubes did just what he'd said they would, took the edge off. She had a larger sip, swirling it around inside her mouth before swallowing. Interesting. There was a bit of a caramel-y aftertaste. It was still strong, still burned her throat, but…it wasn't so bad. He'd only given her a little, and she upended the glass, letting the last of it fall over the ice on its way into her mouth. She was starting to warm up now; the heat radiating outward from a place deep in her lower gut. Most of that was due to the whiskey she knew, but some of it, a little part of it, was caused by Damon's proximity. The memories of kissing him refused to leave her head. Right now all she wanted was to make that happen again.

She handed the empty glass back to him with a small smile.

Damon's eyebrow quirked up again, and he chucked softly. He stood and returned to the dresser. "I thought you wanted to come over here to study, not get loaded. Not that I'm complaining. I'm just surprised, is all."

"I do want to study. This afternoon what I want is to learn. But learning comes in many forms, and not all of them involved reading or writing."

Damon gave her a strange look as he set her refilled glass on the side table behind her. "Yes, that's very true. What sort of learning did you have in mind then? I thought you wanted me to look over your poems for you?"

"Oh, I do," Elena replied hastily, setting the folder of completed ones on the carpet beside him as he sat down a few feet away. She took another sip of the liquor. It seemed to taste better with every swallow. Either that or she was becoming immune to the burn.

He opened the file and began to look over the first poem. Elena's nerves shot up higher, but for a different reason this time. She hoped he liked what he read. The thought of Damon of all people judging her writing and finding her lacking worried her for reasons she couldn't quite comprehend.

To distract herself from trying to decipher his thoughts, she picked up her notebook again. Already her brain felt a little fuzzy from the alcohol. Not a lot - just that queer sense of lightness, that difficulty in focusing on things that seemed important before, but no longer do.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his glass to his lips and sip as his eyes flicked over the paper. When he came to the end, without a word he flipped the page and began to read the next one. By this point Elena had stopped even trying to pretend she was writing. A minute later he lifted his eyes to her and smirked. "What?"

"What what?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

She flushed, dropping her eyes to the words before her again. They seemed to flicker in and out of focus, but she wasn't trying very hard to clear them. "I'm not staring," she muttered.

"Yes, you were." He chuckled, pushing the bridge of his glasses higher on his nose before resuming reading.

A few more minutes passed in silence. The room felt too quiet, with only the crackle of the flames in the fireplace to interrupt it. Elena jotted down words like "smolder" and "melt" and "steam", but didn't put any of them together into phrases. At last she heard him clear his throat, and when she glanced up, he was looking at her again.

"Why are you staring at me?" she teased, reaching for her tumbler and taking another drink.

"These are really good, Elena. Your themes of heat and change come across clearly in each poem. I love the one about gradually melting ice the best. The one about the campfire could use a little more fleshing out, but it's still excellent. You write very maturely for someone your age." He looked impressed, and she couldn't help feeling proud.

"Th-thank you," she stammered. "I'll re-look at 'Flames to Ashes' after I finish these last two."

For a few minutes they sat in companionable silence while she tried to write a few lines of a new poem. Nothing really good was coming to her though; her mind was stuck on just one thing. She was grateful for the interruption when he said, "You never answered my question from before."

"Which one?"

"About what kind of non-reading and writing learning you want to do today."

Elena lifted her eyes to his. Her hand groped for the glass on the floor by her knee and she lifted to her lips again without looking. "Well…I actually have a bit of a…proposition…for you." She could feel heat flooding not only her cheeks, but her entire upper body.

Damon smiled. "A proposition? Consider me intrigued."

She swallowed nervously. "Do you recall our word games while we were stuck last Saturday night?"

"Sure. What about them?"

Her gaze darted around the room, from the fire, to the Rembrandt print on the wall above his dresser, to the notebook resting on her thighs. Any spot but his face. "Um. So…remember how I said I'd never done much…stuff?"

He was quiet for a few seconds. "By 'stuff' you mean, like, sexually?"

Elena's eyes flashed to his for a second. She nodded, then looked down again.

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, I remember."

Taking another sip of whiskey, she asked, "Do you trust me?"

To her relief, he didn't even hesitate. "Yes."

"Good. Because I trust you, too."

"I'm glad." He paused and shifted closer to her. "So what's up?"

God, how to even say this? With a deep breath, she started in. "Okay, so, I'm not a virgin, like I told you. But not by much." She heard him chuckle softly at that, but she didn't look up. "I've had sex once, with my ex-boyfriend, a few months after my mom passed away. It was…it was…less than amazing. I mean, it was probably fine for him I think. But for me, well…" She sighed. "I just don't get why everyone else gets so worked up about it. It wasn't horrible or anything – he's a nice guy, don't get me wrong – but…"

"But?" Damon asked softly. When she didn't reply, he said, "But you didn't get much out of it? No fireworks?"

Elena blew out a small laugh, raising her eyes to him at last. "Nope. Not one."

"I'm sorry to hear that. The first time's never that great for anyone though. It gets better. Much, _much_ better."

"So I've heard." She picked up her tumbler and downed the last swallow. Her fingers were cold against the glass as she set it on the table behind her.

Damon blew out a soft breath. "Why are you telling me this, Elena?"

The liquor was starting to compound in her system, starting to work its magic. She wasn't drunk, but her inhibitions were dropping by the second.

Looking right into his beautiful baby blues, she flashed a nervous smile. "I think you know why."

Damon's eyes flared as it finally sunk in. His mouth and brows became parallel lines. "I thought we discussed all this last weekend. Just friends, right? We both agreed. Have you changed your mind? Because-"

Feeling braver, she reached over and shushed him with the pad of her index finger against those full lips. Lips she hoped she'd get to kiss soon, if luck was on her side. "No. I haven't changed my mind. We're friends and I value that. But I thought maybe, as my friend, you could…you know…show me what I'm missing? Teach me. I wanna know what the big deal is." She smiled again. "No strings attached - I promise."

He pulled her hand away from his mouth, but instead of releasing it, he kept hold of it over his thigh. In a shocked, yet bemused voice, he asked, "Are you seriously suggesting friends with benefits?

Elena nodded, her fingers trembling in his.

For a long, long minute Damon just looked at her. She could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he thought over her request, examining it from every different angle, looking for potential potholes.

Finally with a tight smile and a soft sigh he said, "There would need to be ground rules."

Her heart leapt in her chest, at first feeling like it had stopped, before it resumed pounding all the faster. Was he really going to say yes? "Definitely," she replied. "First and foremost: no emotional attachment stronger than friendship. If either of us think we might be developing serious feelings, we have to tell the other, and revert to just regular friends. I mean, minus the, uh, benefits."

Damon nodded. "Agreed. No falling in love. Got it." He dragged the fingers of his free hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. "Rule two: either one can put a stop to this for any reason, no questions asked, with no hard feelings. We just have to say the word." He paused, seeming to consider something else. "Honesty is key," he added firmly

"Agreed." A flash of guilt stabbed through Elena as she consented to that. He didn't know about her alter ego, and right now she had no intention of telling him. It wasn't that she didn't trust his ability to keep her secret; she knew he would. She just wanted as few people in the know as possible. At the moment there were three: herself, her editor and Bonnie. That was enough. Much as she was proud of the advice she gave, if word got around Mystic Falls that Miss Lonely Love was actually a high school senior, the column would be finished. No one would trust her. No one would ever write in again.

"Anything else?" he asked, studying her closely.

Elena thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

"So to sum up: rule one – no messy feelings. Rule two: either of us can walk away at any time. Rule three: we have to be honest with each other. Did I leave anything out?"

She shook her head again. Her palms were clammy and she hoped he couldn't feel it. His thumb absentmindedly stroked her knuckles as he spoke.

"Okay. So we have a FWB agreement." He exhaled a laugh, looking a bit dazed. "Wow. Never would have guessed this is what we'd be discussing today. You surprised the shit outta me, Elena."

Giggling, she replied, "Me, too! I can't believe I even suggested it. I blame the booze."

"Speaking of, do you want a refill?"

She dropped her eyes to the notebook on her lap again. "No, I'm good." No more whiskey. She wanted to remember this afternoon.

They were both quiet for a bit, Elena pretending to read over her poetry notes, Damon lost somewhere deep in his thoughts. He still held her hand.

When she looked up at him, he was staring at her again. He rubbed lazy circles on the back of her hand. "So…" he began.

The corner of her lip quirked. "So?"

"What exactly do you want me to show you?"

More blood rushed to her face. "Um. I don't know. Everything?"

"Everything?" He chuckled. "That might take a while. Did you, uh…do you want your first lesson…today?"

Elena bit her lower lip. Shyly she nodded. "Is that okay? Or do you want some time to think things over more?"

He shook his head a little, smiling. "I have a lot of alone time, and frankly I spend far too much of it over-analyzing things. So tell me, oh pupil of mine, just what would you like to learn?"

Swallowing was suddenly difficult. "It's up to you," she managed to whisper." Inside she was thinking, _please stop asking me questions and kiss me already_!

Damon smirked. It was a sexy, lazy smirk and the sight of it made her lower belly clench. His eyes twinkled in the glow of the firelight as he downed the last of his whiskey. In a swift movement he removed his glasses and set them on the side table.

Then he snaked his free hand under her hair, tickling the skin on the back of her neck as he pulled her face to his.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Yeah, another cliffie. Sorry, guys! My muse has been stubborn as hell the past few weeks, so I needed to stop here. I hope she's more agreeable with ch 11. Please, if you can, leave me a review and tell me your thoughts. Reviews help motivate the muse, and my God she needs a swift kick in the butt to get going again right now! :) Thanks to Mara for pre-reading this one for me. Hope there's not too many typos. If you find any, please DM me here or in Twitter so I can correct. Thanks bunches to all of you! xo_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

><p>He hadn't kissed her goodbye.<p>

It just hadn't seemed appropriate really, given the circumstances. But it weighed on Damon's mind as he laid half covered by rumpled sheets, sheets which still held her scent. He flung one arm over his eyes, remembering the previous hour.

He hadn't kissed her goodbye. No woman had ever left his bed in the past without at least a parting kiss. It all felt so weird. So detached. Just…wrong.

After, Elena had jumped up and collected her discarded clothes, scrambling to get dressed and pack up her schoolwork. As she'd slipped through the door, she'd mumbled something about needing to get home to make supper. Damon had sensed a panicky weirdness, an urge to flee. He'd let her rush out without further comment.

It wasn't a huge surprise she'd had trouble looking him in the eye as she'd hurried off, but he hoped she'd soon get over it. This little arrangement she'd suggested had seemed to him like it could be asking for trouble, but she'd assured him everything would be fine. Though he had some pretty serious reservations, he'd decided to just go with the flow. He trusted her - at least as far as he could trust anyone these days - and now he'd have to trust that she would be able to deal with their new dynamic. And if not, that she'd let him know she wanted to revert to the way things were before. Sighing, he wondered, not for the first time, if it had been a mistake to agree to cross the friendship line.

Damon thought he'd be cool with it if it turned out she was too freaked out and didn't want to take things further. Elena had enough stress on her without him adding to it. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured to continue their friends with benefits arrangement just to save herself the embarrassment of having to admit she'd reconsidered.

If she did, that would be two women who'd changed their minds about him, not only in the recent past, but, well, ever. Damon decided he'd take it as a sign that maybe he was just meant to be celibate. Perhaps that was his lot in life now - deserved punishment for the sins of his younger self.

Sins like throwing his father's cash around and living large and lazy, instead of going into pre-law like he was expected to.

Sins like all the pussy he'd gotten and hearts he'd broken before meeting Katherine and finally thinking he'd found a woman worth committing to.

Sins like forgetting to pick up his mom's inhaler on the day she died.

Yeah. That was a pretty fucking big one.

The antique grandfather clock out in the hallway began to chime seven o'clock, startling Damon out of his maudlin reverie. He exhaled another soft sigh. Then he slid over to the edge of the bed and, with reluctance, hauled himself to his feet. Retrieving his discarded jeans from the floor, he dragged them on over the boxer-briefs he still wore before looking about for the rest of his clothing. His t-shirt and sweater were draped over the chair by the fireplace. One sock was balled up on the ceramic hearth, a little too close for his comfort to the dying embers behind the grate. A quick glance around the room failed to locate its twin.

Instead of going downstairs to see what his uncle wanted to do about dinner, he sat back down on the edge of the bed and pulled out a side table drawer, retrieving the latest letter from Miss Lonely Love that he'd stuffed inside the previous day. Flopping across the mattress, he braced himself on his elbows and rested it, and the pad of paper he'd also grabbed, against his pillow. He didn't know why writing back to the advice columnist seemed more important than food right now, but it had been one of those kinds of days where he just went with his impulses. And hoped like hell they wouldn't lead him astray. Again.

_Dear Miss LL,_

_My childhood wasn't as idyllic as you might assume._

_When I was young my mother died quite suddenly. She and I had been very close, and my life was never the same after that. In his grief, my father became distant, detached. He spent most of his time working, leaving our housekeeper to take care of us. Because our dad was rarely around, my brother and I grew to rely on each other. I'm a couple years older, so I watched out for him, protected him as best I could and helped him when he needed help with schoolwork or just generally fitting in. We were tight. Really tight. I considered him the only family I really had left. As we grew older he became the closest friend I had, too._

_In case it wasn't already obvious, I don't trust others easily. Never have. But I trusted him. And, later, her as well. Never in a million years would I ever have predicted that the two people in the world who I fully trusted and loved would end up betraying me._

_Everyone keeps telling me I need to get over it, that I need to forgive and forget and move on. But they don't understand. I can't forgive. I won't forget. They're both persona non grata to me now. I don't believe in second chances. I learned my lesson the hard way: the only person on earth I can rely on is myself._

_So yeah, I have given your advice a lot of thought. Too much, possibly. And it's true that there's now someone…one person…who I might actually be willing to place a small amount of trust in. She's different from anyone else I've ever known - more honest, more genuine, if that makes any sense. Less complicated, I guess. I don't really know what makes her special. But if there was anyone I might be able to really trust someday, I think it could be her._

_So rejoice, dear Miss LL, for I have actually taken your advice, at least a little bit. Small steps, right? Thought you'd want to know that._

_Have a great week._

_JAI_

* * *

><p>Elena lay on her side, eyes closed, listening to all the normal little noises her household made in the evening. Outside, snow pellets rattled lightly against the windows and siding. The sound made her feel cold, and she shivered, but she didn't get beneath the blankets. Her fingers drummed against the top of her thigh. She was supposed to be finishing off her poetry assignment, but she was having trouble focusing. Her thoughts were swirling, much like the snow on the other side of the glass. And she couldn't keep still. Her insides felt all tied up in knots. She was giddy; there was no other way to describe it.<p>

Her afternoon with Damon had been…well…definitely a learning experience. The hyperbole _earth-shattering_ came to mind. So _that_ was what she'd read about in trashy books, overheard girls bragging about their boyfriend's skills at. She remembered Caroline telling anyone within earshot in the girl's washroom one day last year how hard Tyler had 'rocked her world.' Elena hadn't even fully understood what the phrase meant at the time.

But now, for the first time in her life, she did. Damon had rocked her world. And she knew her little world would never be the same again.

And if they both decided they wanted to continue this little…experiment, things were sure to get even more interesting. Because if her body had reacted so intensely to what they'd done a few hours ago, how on earth would she react when…if… they had actual sex? Elena couldn't even imagine. But she was imagining anyway.

And she could not wait to see him again.

* * *

><p>Monday morning dawned clear and, yet again, bone-chillingly cold. Elena's fabulous mood had carried over, and apparently it showed. On the bus ride to school, Bonnie turned to her with an arched brow. "What's with you?"<p>

She flushed, attempting to suppress a tiny, knowing grin. "What do you mean?"

"You're…" Bonnie paused, examining her face more closely. "Something's different. I've never seen that look on your face before. What's up?" She turned and grabbed Elena by both shoulders, leaning in nearer. "Did you see Damon this weekend? You did, didn't you?"

Elena felt her cheeks flush. She nodded.

"And? C'mon girl, tell me all the juicy deets." Bonnie's eyes sparkled with excitement for her friend.

Elena looked down at her fingernails and pressed her lips together. The bus's brakes squealed as it jolted to a stop to pick up more kids. With a sigh, she mumbled, "I don't know, Bon. It's not exactly a great school bus conversation."

"Tell me. Right now." Bonnie dropped her voice to a whisper. A harsh whisper, but a whisper all the same. "Did you two…did you have sex?"

Fidgeting with her knapsack, Elena refused to reply or meet her friend's deep brown eyes.

"You didn't! Oh my God. You did!"

"Shhhhh!" Elena looked back at her with wide eyes. Her face felt like it was on fire. "Sort of. Not exactly," she murmured, just loud enough to be heard. "Will you shut up about it now if I promise to tell you at lunch?"

Bonnie brows narrowed. "Fine," she sighed. "I guess I can wait. Shit, you torture me – you know that? Good thing I love you." She turned to look out the window, pretending to ignore her friend.

Elena laughed. "I know. That's what friends are for."

* * *

><p>About thirty seconds after the lunch bell sounded, Bonnie grabbed Elena from behind, took a hold of her arm and dragged her over to their side-by-side lockers.<p>

"Grab your coat. We're going off school property today."

"Bon, it's gotta be minus ten out there! Is that really necessary? Let's just head up to one of the turrets. I'm sure we can find a deserted place to sit and eat."

They wound through the throngs of students making their way in the opposite direction down to the cafeteria on the main floor. Past the boy's washroom, the girls slipped through the unmarked door to the side staircase which led up to the northwest tower. The stairs were old, wooden and narrow, forcing them to climb one in front of the other. When they came out the door at the top, they stepped into a sunshine filled semi-circular room with built-in benches below the tall windows. Elena was pleased to find that, as expected, it was empty.

The glass was a bit grimy, but the bend of the river across the road was clearly visible. It was nearly frozen over, but a smaller rivulet of fast running dark water still split the ice. This section had been steadily shrinking, and now it appeared to be only a few feet across. Elena wondered if the entire river would freeze solid before this winter was over. She wouldn't be surprised.

Bonnie took a seat and put her lunch down on the wood beside her thigh. She didn't open it. Patting the spot next to her, she said, "Sit. Spill. I can't wait much longer!"

Elena's cheeks flared hot again. She set down her paper bag but remained standing, bracing one hand against the white-painted sill and keeping her eyes trained on the soaring speck of a lone bird of prey hunting in the distance. "Well…"

She heard Bonnie exhale a frustrated puff of air. "Since this is clearly difficult for you, Elena, I'll help you get started. Did you have sex with him, or didn't you? What does 'sort of' mean? How do you 'sort of' have sex with someone?"

"We…he…" Elena stopped, sighing. Her voice dropped to a whisper, though there was no one around to overhear. "We didn't have sex-sex the way you're thinking, but we…" She trailed off again, watching the hawk dive for some small animal along the edge of the river. For a fleeting moment she was distracted, hoping the creature, be it rabbit, or mouse, or whatever, would escape becoming the hungry bird's dinner.

"You what? You're not making sense. You didn't have sex, but you _sort of_ did? I don't understand."

Elena's eyes shot to Bonnie's, narrowing with mild irritation. "You're really gonna make me say this?"

"Of course I am! Just tell me already. What? Did he go down on you? Is that what you're too embarrassed to admit?"

Elena's gaze retuned out the window, her posture rigid, her entire upper body now cherry red. She nodded.

Bonnie slid closer, reaching out to rest a hand on her friend's forearm. "Was it the first time you'd ever done that?" she asked softly.

Biting her lip, Elena nodded again.

She heard Bonnie suck in a breath. "Wow. So, was it good? I bet it was."

Elena was quiet for a moment. Then she mumbled, "I…um…I think I even…you know."

The other girl laughed. "Good for you! You mean you never have before?"

With a small shake of her head, Elena thought, _Could it be any hotter up here?_ She tugged at the neck of her sweater, letting some cool air flow in against her overheated skin.

"Never? Not even with Matt?"

"Nope. And Matt and I only…just that one time."

"Huh." Bonnie was quiet for a few moments. Then she blurted, "So with Damon, did you, you know, reciprocate?"

Elena finally turned to meet her friend's eyes. "Did I _what_? Oh. Right. No. I wanted to, but…I don't actually know how. Maybe next time he'll show me what to do."

"Jesus, girl. You and Matt never did _that_ either? I can't believe he never asked you to." She chuckled. "You poor sheltered thing. I'm glad you've finally met a guy who you can experience all the good stuff with. It'd be a shame for you to graduate high school so damn innocent!" Bonnie laughed again and this time Elena joined in.

"I completely agree with you!"

"So," Bonnie said with a saucy grin. "There's going to be a 'next time', then?"

Elena shrugged. "It's not like we made firm plans, but yeah. I mean, I hope so."

"Firm plans?" Bonnie began giggling again. "Yeah, I bet something will be firm about them!"

Elena burst into laughter. When she calmed enough to speak, she said, "Don't get the wrong idea, though, Bon. We're not dating. We're still just friends. Except now we're…"

Bonnie's mouth dropped open, her eyes widening. "Friends with benefits? With _him_? Are you fucking kidding me? _Seriously_?"

Elena looked down at her lunch bag, opening it and rummaging around inside until she found an apple. Focusing on the waxy red and green mottled skin, she took a bite and nodded.

"Elena Gilbert. You have amazed me twice in less than fifteen minutes. Wonders will never cease. Well, far be it from me to tell you how to live your life-"

At that, Elena couldn't hold back a laugh, spraying out tiny bits of white apple flesh into the air. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle.

"Ew. Control yourself, girl." Bonnie wrinkled her petite little nose in disgust. "What was I saying before you so rudely spit food at me? Oh yeah, I won't tell you I think that's a smart idea. If you don't wanna fall for this guy, you need to take sex right off the table. Or the bed. Or the floor. Whatever. Hell, you probably need to stay at least fifty miles away from him at all times."

Elena rolled her eyes. "It's not like that. We made an agreement. Just friends. No strings attached. No messy feelings. Just fun. I can do fun. I deserve some fun, don't you think?"

"You definitely do," Bonnie nodded. "I won't argue with that. I just think you're playing with fire. And I can't help worrying about you." She reached for her sandwich and leaned back against the window, chewing thoughtfully. When she finished half of it, she turned to look at Elena again. "You know, I still need to meet this guy. I want to look him over, give him my stamp of approval for you. That's a best friend's job in situations like these."

"Well come by the shop a night or two this week and do your homework with me. Maybe he'll pop in."

Bonnie flashed Elena a wicked smile. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>The next couple days passed without hearing from Damon, but Elena tried not to read anything into it. After all, it wasn't like she was messaging him either. She figured she'd wait a little longer and if she didn't hear from him by end of day Wednesday, she'd text him and ask how he was. Elena's great mood stuck with her, and Bonnie couldn't resist teasing her about her 'new boy-toy' every chance she got.<p>

Wednesday night at work wasn't all that busy. A few regulars sat along the side, but otherwise Elena had plenty of time to relax. Bonnie showed up around eight, just as the last customers were heading out. She spread her Algebra homework across the counter-top while Elena wiped down the tables. It was still too early to sweep the floor or clean out the coffee machines, so as soon as she could, she joined her friend and opened her assigned poetry book. This week they were reading Dylan Thomas. So far Elena quite liked his writing; the man had a certain rhythmic, catchy style.

About quarter past nine, the familiar tinkling of the bells over the door interrupted their concentration. Both girls looked up at the same time to see who was coming in. A happy grin stretched Elena's face when she saw the all-too familiar black pea coat and matching Greek fisherman's cap. She got to her feet and hurried toward the door to meet him.

"Hey," Elena said, stopping just in front of him. She had to fist her hands at her sides to stop herself from reaching out and touching him. Her cheeks were on fire again. Same old, same old, when she was in Damon's presence. Or talking about him. Or thinking about him. It was difficult to meet his eyes, but she forced herself to anyway. They were shining, matching the smile below. He was happy to see her, and she was more than a little relieved to see it.

"Hey," he said softly. "Sorry I didn't…sorry I've been AWOL. How are you?"

"It's okay. C'mere, I want to introduce you to someone." Elena gave in and put her hand on the sleeve of his jacket, urging him toward the counter where Bonnie sat. She was staring at him with wide eyes. Outside Damon's range of vision, Elena mouthed the words, _Be cool!_

Bonnie slid off her stool and took a step toward them. As she was several inches shorter than Elena; the top of her head was about shoulder height to Damon. "Bonnie, this is my friend, Damon." She tried to put subtle emphasis on the word _friend_.

"Hey," Bonnie said with a smile. Her inquisitive brown eyes scanned him up and down, and, judging by the expression on her face, she liked what she saw. _What's there not to like?_ Elena thought.

"Damon, this is my BFF, Bonnie Bennett. We've known each other since we were toddlers."

Damon, ever the gentleman, reached out and took Bonnie's hand, giving it a brief shake. "Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Elena's…well you know how the rest of it goes."

"I hear you've been helping her…um…study…lately." The meaning of Bonnie's deliberate pause was obvious. Elena's eyes flared and she shot her a dirty look.

Damon just laughed. "Yep. English was always one of my favorite subjects. Now if it was French or Spanish she needed help with, it would be a _completely_ different story!"

"Languages not your thing?"

With a smirk, he replied, "Let's just say I've never had any problem communicating."

Bonnie chuckled. "I bet not."

Damon turned around to catch Elena's eye and arched an inquisitive brow her way. She just shrugged, going around behind the counter to sit down. He dropped onto the stool beside Bonnie and set his hat on the Formica, running his fingers through his unruly dark hair. "What're you ladies studying on this God-forsakenly frigid evening?" He picked up Elena's book. "Thomas, huh? Cool. Always loved him."

"Yeah. So far I agree with you. It's the next part of our poetry component." Elena took a sip of her hot chocolate before remembering why she was actually there. "Oh! You want coffee?"

Damon pulled his travel mug from inside his jacket and set it down in front of her. "Sure. I could use some warming up."

Bonnie giggled and raised amused eyes to Elena, who glared at her in warning.

"What about you?" he asked, turning his attention back to Bonnie. "What are you working on tonight?"

She groaned. "Algebra."

"Fun."

"Not really. But I'm almost done." Bonnie punched some numbers into her calculator, jotted down the results in her notebook and closed the cover, smiling with satisfaction that she didn't have to look at any more math problems tonight.

She swiveled on her stool to face a curious Damon head on. "So…Elena tells me you moved here from Richmond recently?"

"Yep. I came up about a month ago. Staying with my uncle."

"Sorry, but I have to ask. Why the hell would _anyone_ voluntarily move to this crappy little town? I mean, had you never been here before? Did your uncle bullshit you about what Mystic Falls was like?"

Damon chuckled. "I assure you it was completely my idea."

"Huh. Did you get too loaded on New Year's Eve and fall on your head? Suffer brain damage maybe?"

He snorted and looked over at a grinning Elena, who had been taking in their chat with amusement. "I like her," he declared.

"Good," Elena said. "I was hoping you would."

"Hold on," Bonnie interrupted. "I'm not done grilling him yet. The big question, Damon – the biggest question, actually – is this: just how long do you plan to stay?"

He glanced at Elena again before flashing Bonnie a wide smile. "You're right, that is a very good question. And the answer is: I don't know. Until I don't feel welcome anymore, I suppose. Or until there's a really good reason to move on. For now, I'm content to stick around. Not the most definite answer, I know, but it's the best one I can give you at the moment."

Elena felt some relief flood over her at his response. For now, for the next few months anyway, she intended to do her best to make sure he felt very welcome, indeed. She would make it her personal mission.

"On that note, I should head home before my grandma starts to worry. It's nearly time to make her tea." Bonnie gathered up her homework and stuffed it all into her knapsack, then shrugged on her jacket, wrapping her bright orange scarf around her neck. Elena came out from behind the counter and gave her friend a hug. "See you in the morning," she called as Bonnie walked out, the bells over the door chiming in their goodbye.

And then it was just the two of them, alone together for the first time since she'd rushed out of his bedroom three days ago.

Elena turned her back to Damon and began to rinse out the coffee pots, not sure what to say. The silence filled the room, thickened the air around them. Was he waiting for her to say something? She sighed softly as she dried the glass carafes and set them back under the machines so they were ready to go for morning.

Damon cleared his throat behind her, and she straightened up to face him. "Soooo…" he started.

She gave him a small smile. "So?"

"Can I give you a ride home tonight?"

Shrugging, she replied, "Sure."

He looked at her a moment longer, eyes narrowed. "Are we going to be awkward with each other now?"

"Um, I hope not." She smiled again. "Cause awkward would pretty much suck."

"Yep. Hey, I apologize again for not touching base sooner. After the way you left on Sunday, I thought maybe you needed a bit of time to think things over."

She nodded in understanding. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I did kinda freak out a little bit. But if it makes you feel better, I'm totally fine now, was fine not long after actually. Maybe I just needed some air or something." She pressed her lips together and asked the question that was most weighing on her mind. "What about you?"

"Cool as a…well as pretty much the entire world at the moment." He flashed her a tight smile. "We're good then?"

"I think so, yeah." She pulled on her jacket and walked to the door with him, the bells jingling overhead once again as she locked it behind her. His Jeep was nearby, and since the engine hadn't had time to get fully cold, by the time he pulled up in front of her house, the interior was nice and toasty.

"You working until midnight on Saturday?" Damon wondered casually as he shifted into Park.

Elena blew out a laugh. "Of course."

He hesitated a moment. Then he asked, "Would you want to come back to the boarding house and hang out with me after?"

With a surprised frown, she replied, "That late?"

"I was thinking maybe you could, you know, stay over? If you wanted to. I don't know if your dad would go for that or not, but…"

Elena jumped in. "I could tell him I was sleeping at Bonnie's I think."

"Yeah?"

With a little smile, she said, "Yeah."

He looked pleased. Then something in his gaze shifted, became more intense as he looked into her eyes. For a moment she thought maybe he was going to kiss her. Which would be against their Friends With Benefits rules, wouldn't it? Or would it? Friends probably wouldn't give each other goodnight kisses. Even if she'd really like him to.

Damon reached over and squeezed her gloved hand, once, and quickly.

"Night, Elena."

She pulled on the door handle, realizing there would be lots of time for more sweet kisses on Saturday night if she did sleep over.

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Yes, I know I've been gone for a while, and I apologize. A combination of a stubborn muse and then 2 weeks of flat on my back illness had me away from my computer for an extended length of time. Still not 100% but I'm doing much better now. Anyway, I won't bore you with details of my life, but please try to be patient with me as the next couple chapters might take a bit longer than my previous "normal" of every 1 to 2 weeks. But who knows? Maybe I'm wrong and I'll be able to write more soon. Much love and thanks to Mara for pre-reading and Cathy for proofing and to ALL of you who took the time to favourite and reviews not just this story but any of my fics. Last but not least, please, please leave a review? It would definitely help me feel better! Hugs & love to all of you who take the time to review - you are the best!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

><p>Thursday night saw a near-constant flow of customers in and out of the Clutch. Elena didn't get a chance to look at the bundle of letters she'd picked up at the <em>Herald<em> until nearly eleven, when she was sprawled across her own bed. Her homework load had been particularly heavy lately; normally she had her column complete and e-mailed to her editor by end-of-day Wednesday. She was a day behind, and it needed to get done before she went to sleep.

The stack was only four letters thick this week, which was a blessing, really. She began reading through them, and jotting down notes about the kinds of answers she wanted to give. When she got to the bottom one, she smiled as she recognized JAI's scratchy printing on the envelope. His message caused several different emotions to pass over her: sadness and empathy over losing his mom at a young age, annoyance over how his father treated his sons after, frustration over how JAI's relationship with his brother turned out, and then, surprisingly, relief to see that maybe he'd at last found someone he was considering forging a new friendship with. Elena hoped this girl was patient and gentle with him, because he was going to need a lot of understanding from anyone new in his life.

She thought about replying right away, even flipped her pad to a new sheet and wrote _Dear JAI_ on the top line. But the truth was that she didn't really know just what she wanted to say to him yet, and finishing her column within the next hour was a much more pressing deadline. So she folded his letter and tucked it inside the book with the others. Then she dove into writing replies to the publishable letters, like the responsible girl she always tried to be.

* * *

><p>"I've never lied to my dad before, Bonnie." Elena said, frowning. Her brows were furrowed as she looked at her friend. "What if he sees right through me?" The bus jolted in and out of a dip in the road. This sunny Friday had brought with it a surprise end-of-February thaw, and the melting ice on the roads made for a bumpy ride.<p>

Bonnie patted Elena's knee. "Leave it to me. I've got this covered. Just tell him you're helping me with my English essay that's due Monday, and that you'll be home in time to go to church. Grayson'll be cool with it, I'm sure."

"I don't know," Elena sighed. "I really want to go to Damon's tomorrow night but…I hate having to lie. It just feels wrong."

"Lying to your parents in order to go make out with a cute guy is just part of being a teenage girl, Elena. Look at it this way—it's a life experience. And you want more life experience, don't you?"

Elena still looked doubtful, but she gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah. That's true."

"Am I seriously going to have to talk you into sleeping over at your smokin' hot not-boyfriend's place?" Bonnie dropped her already low voice to barely a whisper. "I think you should go fuck his brains out. And then tell me all about it the next day so I can live vicariously through you for once!"

They both erupted into giggles. The two girls sitting in the seat in front of them swiveled their matching blonde heads and shot curious looks their way, making Elena clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"I know you're right. And I want to, I really do!" she murmured once she'd calmed, leaning closer to Bonnie's ear.

"Then it's settled. Tell you dad tonight, and pack a bag before you leave for work tomorrow afternoon. I'm calling you at noon on Sunday though, got it?"

Blowing out a nervous puff of air, Elena agreed.

* * *

><p>Saturday, the last day in February, was also unseasonably warm. The drip of melting icicles from every rooftop in town made background percussion to the slosh-slosh through puddles on the sidewalks on Elena's walk to work, her heavier than usual knapsack slung over one shoulder.<p>

It felt great to not have to wear gloves and a woolen hat this afternoon; she reveled in the feeling of the sun's warmth on the back of her head. She knew that this was just Spring's little tease, that Winter was still far from finished with Mystic Falls, but on days like this she allowed herself to be optimistic about the turning of the seasons anyway.

Why not, right? Elena had every reason to be in a fabulous mood today. Not only was the warmer weather enough to cheer anyone up, but later tonight she had a date with a very hot guy. Even if it wasn't _really_ a date, she couldn't help but still sort of think of it that way.

At the Clutch, she reminded her dad that she wouldn't be home until morning as he topped up the mugs of some customers sitting at the counter. When she finally succeeded in shooing him out the door, the place was nearly packed. The next four hours seemed to zip by as she made sandwiches, plated pastries and brought coffee to the much more cheerful clientele. This warm spell had brought more people out and about, and, though serving them kept her hopping, Elena was more than grateful for it.

She didn't even notice Damon slip in and take a seat at a small table in the very back until he'd been there for several long minutes already, his travel mug open on the Formica in front of him.

"Sorry," she told him with a harried but genuine smile as she filled it from the full coffeepot in her hand. "As you can see, it's a total zoo in here tonight."

"No problem. Maybe I can help out?" He pushed his glasses higher on his nose as he returned her smile.

Elena's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Sure." Getting to his feet, he took the carafe from her. "Let me top up the people who need topping up while you take care of the ones waiting at the counter to pay."

"Sure you don't mind?"

"I've got it. Go." He waved her toward the cash register with his free hand. As she hurried away, she heard him say to Mrs. Huxley, "Can I warm you up?" Elena couldn't suppress an amused grin at the older women's surprised, "Oh! Yes, please!" response.

For the next two hours Damon took care of all the coffee orders and refills while she managed the food and till. She was impressed with his ability to service customers quickly, yet still find a few moments to chat with each and every one. Frankly, he was a natural. They all seemed to love him. Even the usual curmudgeons somehow managed to rouse a smile for Damon when he turned on his attention to them. If only her dad could see this!

It was after eleven before they found time to actually sit down and take a break. Elena's feet were aching, and she felt exhausted. Although she was still excited about going home with him later, when she thought about that big, comfortable bed in his room, she imagined crawling into it and snuggling up to him, falling asleep in his arms. She was pretty sure that wasn't all he had in mind, though. But then again, no details had been discussed. Since they were just friends, maybe sleeping over really did mean only sleeping? Oh, who was she kidding? The two of them alone in bed together for an entire night and morning, with the kind of chemistry both were now fully aware they shared? No way would they be able to keep their hands to themselves the entire time. But she had no idea whatsoever what to expect.

Elena's heart rate sped up just thinking about it, and her imaginings of what might come later already had her feeling much more awake.

"You want more coffee?" she asked Damon, starting to rise.

"Nah, I'm good. I'm still buzzing from running around so much tonight. Never seen it so busy in here!"

"Thaw," she replied with a shrug. "It always lures the residents of Mystic Falls out of their homes and puts them in the mood to socialize again."

"Makes sense I guess," Damon said. "So, forty minutes 'til close. What do we still need to do? Sweep the floors, start the dishwasher, clean the coffee makers…anything else?"

"Set everything up ready to go for Monday morning. Balance the cash register." She looked around them, lips pressed together in thought. "I guess that's about it."

He shot her a smile. "Cool. I'll do the sweeping and washing up; you do the register and prep for re-opening. Deal?"

"Oh no, you've already done more than enough to help me tonight! Just sit and relax." Elena slid off her stool and turned to finish loading the dishwasher.

She heard Damon snort, and lifting her head saw him coming around behind the counter. He edged her away from the dishwasher with the side of his hip and, kneeling, pulled it open and began to fill it with dirty mugs. Elena looked at him in surprise for a moment, then smiled to herself and sat back down, grabbing the stack of receipts to begin calculating the day's totals.

Together they finished up all the little jobs needed doing to close up by about quarter to midnight. Elena felt tired physically, but her mind was hyper alert, wondering what the rest of the night would bring. Every time she glanced over at Damon, she felt heat rush to her cheeks. Even sweeping floors the man looked good enough to lick. Pushing some loose strands of hair off her face, she frowned. She was sure after all her rushing around tonight she must look a mess. It wasn't fair in the slightest.

A few minutes later Damon came back behind the counter and tucked the broom into its little closet. "Nearly done?" he asked.

Elena turned to look up at him from her stool behind the cash register and smiled. "Yep. It was a pretty good night. Made enough to make up for the slow beginning of the week. Dad will be happy."

"Excellent. So, what do you want to do for the last ten minutes? Another quick round of Truth or Dare?" He smirked and dropped her a wink.

She got up and walked to the front door, taking a look out into the street. About a block and a half down, she saw a small group of people smoking and chatting on the sidewalk in front of the Grill, but no one was anywhere near the Clutch. Her brows knit together as she debated. With a flick of her wrist she flipped the Open sign to Closed and turned the lock on the door. Heading back over to where Damon stood, she smiled. "I think it'd be okay if we closed up a few minutes early tonight."

"You sure?"

Elena nodded, opening the broom closet door to pull out her coat and boots. A minute later she was locking up the shop from the outside, and then following Damon across the road to his Jeep. The pavement was slushy and wet, and she had to step over puddles to not get her boots soaked.

Neither of them said much on the drive to the boarding house. When another melodic male singer with accompanying guitar came on the radio, Damon turned up the volume and began to hum softly. Elena barely noticed, her thoughts tumbling over one another as her mind played out scenario upon heat-inducing scenario of what she might have to look forward to once they arrived.

The tires crunched over the gravel driveway as they pulled up in front of the garage. Elena reached behind her seat to retrieve her knapsack, but before she could touch the door handle to exit, Damon was right there pulling it open for her. He offered her his hand to help her out and she stared at it for a moment in surprise. Almost shyly, she slipped her fingers into his. Mild disappoint surged through her when he let go the moment she had both feet firmly on the ground. She heard the soft clunk of the Jeep door being closed, and then felt his hand again on the small of her back, guiding her toward the front entrance. A shiver unrelated to the winter night passed through her.

The air inside the boarding house was chilly, but by now Elena was expecting it. She toed off her boots, leaving her coat on as they made their way upstairs as quietly as possible to Damon's bedroom. The idea of Zach discovering she was here—not just here, but actually spending the night with his nephew—mortified her, although she had no intention of admitting that to Damon.

As soon as they stepped into his room, he went and knelt on the hearth, pushing the grate aside to poke at the remains of the embers in the fireplace. He carefully positioned a few new chunks of wood. "This room warms up pretty quickly," he assured her.

Elena looked at the neatly made bed, two furrows marring her forehead as she contemplated it. She'd been run off her feet for hours tonight at work, and she probably smelled like stale coffee and sour sweat. Trailing her eyes around the room, she noticed the door to Damon's bathroom standing partially open. It gave her inspiration.

Crumpling some newspaper and tucking the pieces under the edges of the logs, he stood to reach for a matchbox on the mantle. As he pulled out a long match, she said to his back, "Hey, uh...so, it's been kind of a long day. Would you mind if I used your shower before, um, sleep?"

Damon's attention was focused on getting the flames going, and he waved a hand behind him in the general direction of the bathroom. "Help yourself. Towels are on the shelf on the right."

She shrugged off her coat and laid it over the arm of the chair before going into the bathroom with her knapsack. Inside the bag, below her homework, she'd stuffed in an old t-shirt, leggings, underwear, toothbrush and a clean sweater.

After closing the door, Elena turned on the shower to let the water heat up. Then she stripped off her grungy clothing, cramming it into the bottom of her bag and putting the t-shirt and leggings she intended to wear as pajamas on the counter. She examined her reflection in the large mirror as she wrapped an elastic around her ponytail, securing her hair high on the back of her head in a messy bun. Her face didn't so much look tired right now as anxious. By the time she pulled open the glass door, steam was already rising. Apparently water in the boarding house warmed up fast—one thing in the old building that still worked efficiently at least.

She braced her palms against the ceramic tiles of the shower's back wall and let the water beat down on her tired muscles. Squeezing her eyes shut, she heard nothing but the wet thrumming against her skin. In the darkness behind her eyelids she felt safe inside her own protective little mental bubble. Elena let her frazzled mind relax along with her body.

At last she opened her eyes a fraction of an inch and fumbled for the soap in the stainless steel dish bolted to the wall. She still felt pretty nervous about going to bed with Damon. _Oh my God. Going to fricking _bed_ with Damon! What am I—what are _we_—doing? _she thought. She took her time soaping and rinsing, going over every inch of skin multiple times. Finally, when she could delay no longer, she shut off the water and stepped out into the steamy room, wrapping herself in a soft white bath sheet.

Feeling sort of guilty about how long she had taken, she pulled on her shirt and leggings, and tugged her hair loose. After brushing her teeth, she took a deep breath, grabbed her knapsack and re-entered the bedroom.

Damon sat in the wing chair by the now-crackling fire, clearly waiting for her. He smiled when he saw her, and rose to his feet. "Feel better?"

Elena nodded. "Much. Thanks."

"You need anything? Something to drink?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. My turn now. Just make yourself at home." He set his glasses on the bedside table closest to the door before disappearing into the bathroom. A minute later she heard the shower come back on. With a worried frown she hoped she'd left enough hot water for him.

Elena looked at the bed, then to the vacated chair by the fire, then back to the bed again, not sure where she should wait for him to return. Finally she went around and sat on the edge of the mattress on the side furthest from the door. She leaned her knapsack against the nightstand and pulled back the blankets, sliding underneath and propping herself up on the pillows. She could hear the shower drumming behind the closed bathroom door, and couldn't help picturing Damon standing naked below it, soaping himself down. A little smile rose unbidden to her lips at that mental image. While she hadn't seen him fully bare last Sunday, what she had seen had been…impressive. He was lean and toned, every muscle in his torso and abdomen taut and defined. She remembered the soft feel of his skin, and how he'd shuddered a little when she'd run her fingertips across his bare stomach. That slight quiver had given her a thrill, a small feeling of power. She wanted to feel like that again. That, and more. So much more.

The water shut off. Quickly she leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp and pull her Dylan Thomas book from her bag so she looked like she'd been reading. A minute later, Damon emerged, toweling off his dark hair as he walked over to the fire. He wore nothing but black pajama bottoms. His smooth chest gleamed in the firelight as he bent to give the logs another jab with the poker. Sparks shot up into the flue. A few more bloomed in Elena's lower belly that had nothing whatsoever to do with the flames.

Damon straightened up and turned toward her, the glow from the fire creating a halo around him which highlighted his messy damp hair. She couldn't see his eyes clearly, but she knew they were trained on her. "Comfy?" he asked, one side of his mouth curling up into a half-grin.

Elena smiled back, her heartbeat picking up speed as he came over to his side of the bed and pushed the covers aside. His side? Her side? _Will we have our own sides now? Is this really happening?_

"Sure," she answered as calmly as she could. She looked back down at the poem in front of her. The words on the page were blurring in and out of focus. Concentration was impossible. Closing the book, she set it on the nightstand, sighing under her breath as she turned her body toward him.

Damon lay on his side bracing his head on his arm, the white blankets pulled up to his waist. She noted a twinkle in his eyes as he held her gaze. "Sleepy?"

She half-shrugged, using her right shoulder only as she was lying on her left one. "I'm okay."

The smirk returned. "Are you nervous, Elena?"

She exhaled a soft sigh. Honesty was one of their rules, and even though she couldn't be as honest with him as she'd like, she had promised, and she intended to do her best to keep it—all but that one important little secret anyway. "A little," she admitted.

He fell onto his back and folded his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling instead of at her. "It's okay. It's normal to be. We can just go to sleep if you want to."

Elena frowned and was silent for a few moments. Her eyes swept over the expanse of Damon's chest, along the lean muscles in his arms. "No, I…I don't…no."

"You don't know?" he asked, looking over at her again.

With a small smile she clarified, "No, I, um, I don't want to sleep just yet."

They stared silently at each other, the crackling and spitting from the logs in the fireplace the only background music. Elena felt overheated, and she wished she'd brought something lighter to wear. She pushed the blankets down to her waist to allow some cool air closer to her skin.

"Too hot?" he asked with a knowing little grin. "Thought you were freezing before?"

She half-shrugged again, but didn't reply.

"You know, you could always remove some layers to cool down." Damon inched over a little closer, but made no move to touch her.

Elena didn't respond. After a few seconds contemplation, she reached under the blankets and pushed her leggings down and off, dropping them onto her knapsack. Then she rolled onto her side to face him again. "Done."

He chuckled. "Well, we're half-way there, depending, of course, on where 'there' is. I've got bottoms on and you've still got your shirt on. Now what?"

She sucked in a breath. Was he really asking her? She wished he'd just take control. Right now she was more than willing to surrender it to him, to do whatever he wanted. For a long, long moment she didn't reply. At last she whispered, "Show me."

His eyes widened along with his smile. "Alright." He moved even closer, until their faces on the pillows were only inches apart. "You have to promise to just say the word if you want me to stop, though. Deal?"

Elena gulped, her throat tight. She reached behind her and switched off the lamp.

"Deal," she breathed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thank you to anglcdmn1986 and LoveDE for their help. Sorry for the delay with this chapter - my muse has been uncooperative lately. I'll try my best to get ch 13 out a little faster than this one was. With any luck ch 13 will make up for your wait. :) Please reviews? Reviews really do make my day. Love to you all..._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

><p>"Deal," Elena breathed.<p>

Damon chuckled softly, so close to her now she could feel it like a vibration over her skin. His fingers brushed the side of her face, and she held her breath, waiting. She wished he would just kiss her. Could she summon the courage to kiss him first? Before she could make a move, he shifted his face just the smallest bit, leaning in until his lips met hers, effectively putting an end to her mental struggle.

At first she tried to keep still, to let him lead her where he wanted to take them. She felt his hand cup her cheek, drawing her closer. Both his fingers and lips were soft and gentle, like he was testing to make sure this was what she really wanted.

It was.

He tasted minty from his toothpaste, with a lingering hint of coffee underneath. Slipping an arm around his waist, Elena shifted until their bodies were pressed together. She felt him smile against her mouth, and in response, he hooked a leg over hers. Their kisses began to deepen. As she skimmed her hands up his back, the muscles in his shoulder blades rippled beneath her touch.

His skin was so soft—she didn't realize boys could be this soft. She'd always assumed guys were rough, often hairy creatures, but Damon wasn't like that at all. He was nothing like Matt; he was like no one she'd ever met before.

He stroked her neck, tickling the sensitive spot behind her right ear with the pad of his thumb. She gasped softly as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her thigh through the cotton of his pajama bottoms. As curious as she was about it, she couldn't bring herself to actually reach down between them and… _Nope. Not that brave_, she thought, a blush heating her cheeks. _Not yet, anyway._

Damon's hand was on the move again, trailing over her backside. When it reached the hem of her t-shirt, it slid underneath, his fingers gliding oh-so-gently up her spine. His every touch sent shivers across her skin. She broke away, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Okay?" he whispered, eyes catching hers in the dim light from the fireplace.

Elena nodded, swallowing, tasting him still. Wanting more. She pressed her lips to his again, opening her mouth wider this time, running her fingers into his hair. Their kisses quickly intensified. His tongue stroked along hers, while his fingers traced circles over the skin of her lower back.

He pushed her shirt higher, and she realized she wanted to feel her bare chest pressed against his. Pulling away from him, she sat up and tugged it over her head, tossing it to the floor beside her knapsack. The firelight made her bare skin glow.

Suddenly shy, she began to pull the blankets up over her chest.

Damon's hand stopped her. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't cover yourself up. You're beautiful. Don't you know that?"

Elena didn't know what to say. She had certainly never thought of herself that way before. Did he really think she was beautiful? She hesitated, then let the sheets fall to her waist, still not turning her head to look at him.

Their afternoon together last Sunday had passed in what felt like no time at all, and to be completely honest, she'd had her eyes closed for much of it. So yes, he'd already seen her naked once before, but tonight it felt…different, somehow. Like the conscious choice to spend the night together, to share a bed for all those hours, made things between them all that much more real. And intimate.

She was being silly, she knew. But it was difficult for her to think of herself as a sexual person, as the sort of girl who was totally relaxed being naked around her boyf—no. Not that. Around her…partner.

Elena felt his hand on her shoulder, and slowly turned to look at him. He was staring at her with admiration in his eyes. And lust. That look she recognized. She'd seen it on Matt's face the afternoon she'd given him her virginity. And there was that to consider, too. The idea of having sex again scared her, and yet at the same time it was also exciting. Two conflicting emotions that made her more nervous than she could ever remember feeling in her entire life.

Damon pulled her into another deep kiss, his hand sliding down her shoulder blade and coming to a rest on the side of her ribcage. His touch was light, and it tickled, a little. She tried to restrain her giggle, but just as it was about to break free, the pad of his thumb slipped forward and brushed over her nipple. Her laugh turned into a sharp gasp, and she felt him smile as he did it again. And again.

Shifting their bodies, he laid her down on her back, her head against the pillow. After a minute or two, his kisses left her lips and began to travel across her jaw, then along the side of her throat. His mouth traced a damp path over her chest until he arrived at his destination: her left breast. A low groan escaped as his tongue flicked over her, teasing her peak until it was rigid. Her groan morphed into a gasp when he latched on, his other hand coming up to tweak the neglected nipple to attention.

_Oh my God_! Elena thought. She vaguely recalled him doing something sort of similar last Sunday, but then it all got obscured by what had happened shortly thereafter. This time she vowed to commit every last second to memory. He squeezed and licked and sucked each breast until she thought she'd go mad, her thighs pressing together in a failed attempt to alleviate some of the building pressure. Who knew her breasts were so sensitive? Apparently there was a direct link from her nipples down to her nethers. Why hadn't she been aware of this before? This seemed like something important she should have known.

Elena looked along her body at him at the same time as he raised his eyes to hers, and she thought she saw a hint of a smirk. Then he suckled her harder, and she bucked underneath him. She wanted…no, she _needed_ more. So much more. But she didn't have the nerve to ask him for it. She ran her fingers into his hair, silently urging him to continue, hoping he'd get the hint.

With a final lick, Damon pulled away and met her eyes again. He was definitely smirking. No doubt about it. "I take it you like that?"

She nodded.

"What do you want me to do to you next?"

Her mouth fell open in surprise. Did he really want her to spell it out? "Um…you know," she mumbled, flushing. She was suddenly tempted to pull the sheets over herself again but resisted the urge.

"Tell me," he insisted.

Elena gulped. "I...um…" She closed her eyes.

"Uh uh. Open 'em. Look at me, Elena."

His head was tilted, and he grinned at her. "You need to be able to tell a guy what you like in bed. Otherwise you might not get it. Don't be shy. Just say it."

She took a deep breath. "What you were just doing? That felt…amazing."

"Glad you enjoyed it. That's a good start. So now what? Shall we roll over and go to sleep?" He winked.

"Uh…no."

"No? Then what?"

"I want you to…I want you to…" She stopped. Her entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames. With a soft sigh, she mumbled, "I want you to… um…I want you to…have sex with me."

Damon smiled again. "Be more specific. Sex can mean a lot of different things."

That wasn't good enough for him? Was he deliberately trying to torture her? She sighed. "You know what I mean!"

"I want to hear you to say the words."

She just stared at him.

He cocked an amused eyebrow. "Is saying it really so difficult? You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?"

Elena didn't think she could flush any deeper. Why did he need her to spell this out? Why did they have to talk about sex? Matt had barely talked at all. Couldn't Damon just, you know, do it? Do her? _Ugh_. This was a bit of a mood-killer.

She closed her eyes and nodded again, mortified. A large part of her brain had entered Flight Mode, and she debated calling the whole thing off and just heading home.

"Say it," he instructed, his voice all husky. Her libido perked right back up again at the sound, and she opened her eyes to look at him again.

"I just did," she mumbled.

He was silent. And she realized what he wanted her to say. Words that had never passed the lips of Elena Gilbert before. Words she never thought she'd ever say to anyone, ever. Because it just wasn't _her_, you know? She didn't swear, she wasn't vulgar, and she certainly wasn't the type of girl to tell a man what she wanted him to do to her.

Their stalemate dragged on for a few long moments.

Finally she gave in. She could do this. They were just _words_, after all. It wasn't really that big of a deal. Except, to her it kind of really was. Holding his gaze in hers as confidently as she could manage, she whispered, "Fuck me, Damon."

His baby blue eyes shot wide for a second and a hungry expression came over his face. This clearly turned him on. A millisecond later his lips crashed into hers again.

Their kisses were more passionate now, his mouth claiming hers, their tongues diving, dodging, thrusting, parrying. She felt one of his hands run along her side until it came to the elastic of her panties. It didn't stop, just pulled the fabric down her legs as it went, sliding them off her feet and tossing them who knew where.

Now she was completely bare beside him, but he still wore his pajama bottoms. That was hardly fair, was it? Elena dragged her mouth from his for a moment. "Quid pro quo," she murmured, tugging at his drawstring.

Damon chuckled. "But of course, my fair lady. Your wish is my command." He sat up and pushed his pants off, and she noticed he wore no underwear beneath. The only light was the flickering glow from the fireplace, but she could see well enough.

Elena's throat tightened. She'd never seen a man naked and up close and personal before. With Matt it had been a darkened room, and frankly she'd averted her gaze. And last weekend Damon had kept his boxer-briefs on. Her cheeks burned, and she didn't know where she should rest her eyes. Finally she just closed them again.

Another low chuckle. Then she felt his hand close over hers and bring it to her left, placing it palm down on him. She heard his breath catch, felt him shudder just a little at her touch.

"You're so shy," he said softly. Elena could hear the smile in his voice, but she kept her eyes shut. "Shy is fine. I have no problem with shy. But you asked me to teach you, so I'm teaching you. Open your eyes and watch."

With a small sigh, she eased her lids part-way open, peering down between her lashes at their joined hands. His skin down there felt like satin beneath her fingers. How could anything be so soft yet so hard at the same time? He helped her gently grip him. She exhaled through her nose in fascination as he started to move their hands up and down.

"Okay, now you take over," Damon told her, removing his guiding hand. Immediately her fingers stilled. "It's okay, Elena. Just, you know, touch me. Stroke the shaft with a firm grip, but not too tight. Every once in a while rub your thumb, or even your palm, over the head." He stopped with a gasp as she did as she was told. "Oh yeah. Just like that. You've got this."

"It's so soft. Like velvet," she observed quietly, awe evident in her tone. She knew he knew she'd never done this before, and he wasn't judging, so she just tried to relax and remember what he'd instructed. Trying to keep an even pace, she stroked the top of him with the pad of her thumb on every upsweep. She thought she was getting the hang of it. Then she glanced at his face and realized just how right she was. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted. There was no doubt he was appreciating her novice efforts.

After a few minutes, she noticed Damon's breathing was picking up speed and growing shallower. She wondered if he wanted her to use her mouth on him. He hadn't mentioned anything like that. Should she just try to do it? Suddenly he reached over and grabbed her wrist, halting her movements. She looked over at him questioningly.

He gave her a weak smile. "It feels really good. Too good. Time to put a stop to that before we hit my event horizon. Otherwise, I'm gonna need a fifteen minute intermission to recharge my batteries."

Elena was confused. Event horizon? Recharge his batteries? She had no idea what he meant, but she retracted her hand fast. Though he'd clearly been enjoying it, he wanted her to stop touching him. Then she got it, and she closed her eyes, feeling stupid. _Of course_!

Pulling her face to his, Damon gave her another deep kiss. "Now…what was it you asked me to do to you before I interrupted to give you a little anatomy lesson?" His voice had roughened to that sexy rumble again, and her lower belly tightened in response. With a smirk, he added, "Oh yeah, I think I remember."

He dipped his mouth to kiss each of her breasts in turn, licking her nipples until they stood back at attention. One hand slid down her side and over her stomach, and Elena's flesh pebbled at his touch. As he trailed a deliberate path through her lower curls, she recalled last Sunday, and shifted her thighs apart to allow him better access. She sucked in a sharp breath as he gently tapped her most sensitive spot, but then he moved on. Once he'd explored her thoroughly to make sure she was good and ready, he inched a careful finger inside. She exhaled another gasp, spreading her legs wider. Still lavishing attention to a breast, his finger curled up, hitting just the right place, making her writhe in her need for more.

Elena's own fingers dove into his hair, and though she didn't say a word, he seemed to understand. He withdrew his hand and raised his face to kiss her lips once again, rolling his body above her and bracing his hands on each side of her head. His smooth chest rested lightly against hers, skin to skin, and a shiver ran through her. Without thinking about it, she shifted her knees up and apart to cradle his hips between her thighs.

He pulled away a few inches to look her in the eyes. "You sure you're really up for this?" he whispered. "Just say the word if you've changed-"

Elena shushed him with the pad of her index finger on his soft lips. "I haven't."

Damon smiled that sexy half-smile again and nipped playfully at her fingertip before giving her another quick kiss. "Excellent. Because I am about to rock your world."

Reaching to his left, he pulled open a drawer on the nightstand and retrieved a condom, tearing the end of it open with his teeth. Not sure where to look, Elena averted her eyes while he rolled it into place. Was this something she should be asking him to show her how to do? Another time maybe.

Her eyes flew wide as he guided himself along her wetness. Then slowly, ever so slowly and carefully, he began to push inside.

_Oh my God!_

Elena gasped even louder as he filled her. This was nothing at all like how she remembered. It was so much more…intense.

He stopped moving and examined her face again, waiting for her to adjust. "You okay?" he asked. There was something about his voice—it seemed different, somehow. She couldn't quite place it.

"Yes," she breathed. "I'm fine."

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, I…no. It's okay." God, she sounded just exactly as naïve as she felt. She was sure Damon was used to much more experienced women. This was probably not particularly fun for him. He was just doing it to help her out, to teach her, like she'd asked him to. As sweet as he was being, she knew she could never live to up what she assumed were his expectations.

He leaned back down against her and kissed her passionately. One hand cradled the side of her face and the other ran over her hip to grip the back of her thigh as he started to move.

Elena tried to concentrate on kissing him back. She really tried. But the sensation of him inside her was too much for her to ignore. Her fingers ran over the smooth surface of his back and down to his butt. With both hands she gripped his muscled backside as he thrust his hips forward in a gentle pace.

Damon broke their kiss and lowered his head into the space between her shoulder and neck. "Tilt your hips up a little," he instructed, his lips close to her ear. She shivered at the feeling of his breath against her skin, and tried to obey. "Yep, just like that. Now, if you can, try to push back against me as I push forward. See if you can match my rhythm."

"Like this?" she mumbled, lifting her pelvis up to meet his thrusts. "Is this right?"

She felt the vibrations of his low chuckle tickle her throat. "Yes. Don't worry. You're fine. It's all good. More than good—amazing. As we get used to each other, we'll figure out exactly how to get in synch and it will all feel natural." He lifted his face to look at her again. "I promise."

Did that mean he might want to do this again? Elena couldn't believe the patience he was showing her. All of a sudden, she felt very lucky.

After a few more minutes of trying her best to keep up with his lead, he squeezed the back of her thigh and asked, "Do you want to try a different position?"

Elena bit her lip. With Matt, they had only done basic missionary, and it hadn't lasted very long. She had no idea how to answer Damon's question. But she wanted to learn, and she trusted him. Swallowing nervously, she said, "Sure. Whatever you want."

He smiled. "Have you ever been on top before?"

She shook her head.

"Your ex needs a good smack," he muttered under his breath. He pulled out and rolled onto his back. "Now straddle my hips and just, you know, lower yourself onto me."

That didn't sound too difficult. With his help, she managed to get into the right position without any trouble. "Now you're in control," he told her with a grin. "You set the pace. You do what feels good for you."

Elena experimented with raising and lowering herself, trying to find a gentle rhythm again. Her forehead furrowed with concentration.

"One little suggestion," Damon said. She lifted her face to his with a questioning look. "Roll your pelvis on me. Seriously. It's way easier than lifting your body up and down all the time. And it puts more pressure on places that will feel good for you." She must have given him a skeptical look, because he added, "I swear!"

She rolled her pelvis. One, twice. A third time. Oh yes, that was much easier. And oh, he was right about something else, too. It did feel really good. When she tilted her hips forward, a part of his body brushed against her most sensitive spot. She could feel the intensity building each time she pushed up against it.

Damon seemed to sense what her body was close to. With both hands, he reached for her breasts, tweaking her nipples again and making her moan. She increased her speed a little, pressing harder on her forward motions. God, that felt amazing! Just when she didn't think she could take the sensation anymore without losing her mind, she groaned louder and her entire body clenched up tight. She began to shake with spasms, bracing her palms against the mattress on either side of his arms as she gulped for air. Before she could collapse onto him, he lifted his upper body to a sitting position and pulled her against his chest, one hand stroking her hair and the other holding her in place as she rode out her release.

When Elena could finally catch her breath again, she clung to him, still shuddering with aftershocks.

"See why you being on top can be decidedly…uh…advantageous?" he murmured, dropping soft kisses to the side of her throat.

Elena nodded against his shoulder. "That was intense!"

In response, he rolled them both onto their sides. His chest glistened with sweat in the soft light. Feeling brave in the wake of her orgasm, she leaned forward and licked a trail over his nipple, and he gasped with pleasure.

Her right leg was now hooked over Damon's thigh, and as he plunged forward she realized he wasn't done yet. He leaned closer to capture her lips, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him. His movements began to pick up speed. He was so hot, and she could hear his breathing becoming labored again, like before when she'd been stroking him. It didn't take a genius to realize he was close. She pushed herself against him as he drove into her, trying her best to keep up, wanting to make this good for him.

Tearing his lips from hers, he pressed his face into the curve of her neck once more. Every exhalation felt like a furnace blast on her skin. His hands dropped to clutch her buttocks, pulling her against him with each frenzied thrust. Then he bucked against her, groaning low and deep and long. He clutched her body tight to his, shuddering, sweating, gasping for air. Elena didn't know what to do, so she just held onto him, running her fingers through his hair over and over as she waited for him to catch his breath.

Finally Damon pulled away from her a few inches, holding her gaze across the pillow with tired eyes. He wore a blissed-out, satiated smile.

For a while neither of them spoke. Then, hesitantly, she asked, "Was it…um…okay?"

His expressive eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Elena, it was amazing! You're amazing," he exclaimed. "And it will only get better from here." He kissed her again, as if to assure her he meant it.

"Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

A stab of guilt passed through her at his words, but she tried to push it away. "It was incredible for me, too. I never knew it could be like that. Feel like that. It literally took my breath away for a few moments there." She paused, smiling shyly. "Wow."

"Wow, indeed."

They talked for a while longer, about poems and books and things, until they were both yawning too much to even get a complete sentence out without interrupting themselves. Damon gave her a quick kiss goodnight, and she rolled over onto her right side, facing the wall. Her mind was spinning, but she was just _so_ tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open a moment longer.

Just before she drifted off, she felt his arm slide over her waist to rest his hand on her stomach. His body pressed up against her back. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered, giving her a small squeeze.

"Goodnight."

Then she fell into an exhausted, yet blissful sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Special thanks to someonestolemyshoes49 for proofreading this chapter for me. Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it. Please let me know your thoughts by leaving a review in the little box below. It would really make my day! I love and appreciate you guys SO much! xo_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

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><p>When Elena woke up, she was shivering. The first thing she did was pull the sheets tighter around her. The second was to remember where she was, and just what had happened last night. Her eyes flew open, and she sat upright, clutching the blankets to her bare chest as her panicky gaze swept the dimly lighted room. Damon was no longer beside her and the bathroom door stood open, so he must have gone downstairs. She hoped he wouldn't be gone long. It was weird and awkward enough waking up in a strange house—the last thing she wanted was to have to get dressed and go downstairs alone. What if she ran into his uncle and had to fumble for an explanation of why she was there? What if that information then got back to her father? God, that would be a nightmare!<p>

She shuddered again. The coals in the fireplace had gone dark—no wonder she woke up cold. The heavy drapes adorning the tall windows to her right were closed, but a sliver of bright morning light sliced between where they came together. She frowned at it, hoping she hadn't slept too late.

At that moment the door opened and the intermingled aromas of fresh coffee and chocolate flooded the room.

"I brought you hot cocoa," Damon assured her, smiling as he noticed she was awake. He was wearing his black pajama bottoms topped with a grey sweater. For warmth, she assumed.

Elena lay back down, pressing her head into the pillow and snuggling under the covers. "What time is it?" She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

"Ten past eight." He came around to her side and set a steaming mug on the night table not far from her head. It smelled tantalizing, and her mouth immediately began to water.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Damon leaned over so he could see her face. With a small grin, he asked, "What time do you need to be home, sleepyhead?"

They hadn't fallen asleep until sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and Elena's mind was still groggy. The last thing she wanted to do was leave her cozy nest of blankets and head out into the cold. Once she got home, she'd have to face her father and lie to him about where she'd been, and she worried she wouldn't be able to convincingly pull it off. Nor was she looking forward to leaving here. Damon's bed was comfy, and if he'd only get back in it and join her, it would be even comfier.

"Um…nine, I guess." She rose back up a bit, bracing herself on one elbow as she reached for the mug and took a sip. "Mmm. Thank you."

"You're welcome. How are you feeling this morning?"

How was she feeling? Why was he…Oh. About _that_. Right. "Um…" She broke eye contact. "Fine. Good. You?"

Damon chuckled. "I feel great. How could I not, waking up with a hot naked girl in my bed? Especially one who looks so damn cute when she's asleep—even when she's drooling all over my pillow."

Flushing, Elena protested, "I don't drool!" A self-conscious laugh slipped out. "Do I?"

Smiling, he leaned forward for a second, but then he seemed to catch himself and straightened back up. She had the fleeting idea that he'd been about to kiss her.

"Just a little," he teased, standing and going to kneel in front of the fireplace. "Give me five minutes and I'll have this room warming up nicely again."

She knew she should probably start getting dressed, but that would mean having to leave her warm little cocoon. Instead she propped her head a little higher on the pillow and drank some more hot sweet cocoa, watching Damon as he re-started the fire.

Once he had the flames going, he turned back to her. "You look comfortable."

Elena smiled. "I am." She still wasn't really sure of the proper etiquette for Friends With Benefits, but if she said or did something inappropriate, she'd just have to trust that he'd let her know. So, mustering her courage, she patted the mattress beside her.

Damon's eyes flared, and his face broke into a grin. The next thing she knew, he'd leapt onto the bed, landing on his side to face her. He was looking at her with _that_ expression again. The one she was growing to understand meant he was thinking about kissing her. Not just kissing her, touching her. And, well, doing other things.

The familiar tightening down below kicked in as her heart began to race. She set her mug back on the night table and turned to him with a small smile.

"Can you spare a half hour?" he asked in that low, seductive voice.

Wow, he hadn't been kidding—the temperature really had shot up in here fast! Elena looked into those mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes. She knew those eyes could pull her in and drown her in their depths if she wasn't careful. But she would be careful. Very careful. She had to be.

"I think I can manage that."

He grinned, clearly pleased, and reached out a hand to stroke the side of her face.

Then at last he leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

><p>It was about ten minutes after nine when Elena walked in her front door. Damon had dropped her off a block away from her house, at her request so that her dad wouldn't notice her climbing out of his Jeep. To her pleased surprise, Damon had leaned over and given her a quick kiss goodbye. On the cheek, not on the lips, but still. She knew her face was pink, but if anyone commented on it, she just planned to blame it on the cold mountain morning air.<p>

"Morning," her father greeted her from the kitchen, open paper and steaming cup of coffee in their usual places on the table in front of him.

"Morning, Dad." She hung up her coat, and came into the doorway. "The Clutch was swamped last night! It's been a good week. You'll be happy to know we're running in the black again."

He looked up at her with a smile. "Wonderful! Now if only we can make that a regular occurrence from here on."

"Fingers crossed." Elena paused. "So, Damon dropped by last night. When he saw how busy I was, he took the coffee pot from my hand and started to fill mugs. You should have seen him, Dad! He was a natural. The customers loved him!"

One of Grayson's eyebrows arched. "Really? That was awfully nice of him." An amused grin curved his lips. "So, are you still insisting you two are just friends?"

Elena flushed again, breaking eye contact. "Yes, of course. Because we are."

They _were_ still just friends, weren't they? In fact, they were the very definition of Friends With Benefits now, as far as she understood it. Which was exactly what she'd wanted. Wasn't it? So why did things feel like they'd changed drastically between them now? And would this become a problem in the future? God, she hoped not.

Her dad interrupted her fretting. "You should invite him over sometime. How about dinner next Sunday? Whaddya think? Feel like roasting a chicken and showing off your cooking skills?"

Elena's eyes narrowed as she thought about that. Sundays were the only days she and Jeremy actually got to eat meals with their father, as the Clutch was closed that day. And now that they were older, one or both of them were often off doing other things over lunch. But Sunday dinner was their family time. And her father wanted her to invite Damon over next weekend to join them? He obviously thought Damon was important in his daughter's life and wanted to get to know him better. She wondered if her dad would feel the same way if he knew the truth about what had happened last night. Still, asking Damon to come over next Sunday didn't seem like a _terrible_ idea. It might even end up being a lot of fun.

"Sounds like a plan," she replied, lifting her knapsack from the floor. "I'll ask him next time we talk, and let you know." With that, she made her way down the hallway to her bedroom to get changed for church.

* * *

><p>Damon was hauling an armful of kindling up to his room to replenish the now depleted wood-box when he heard his uncle call his name. After he re-filled the receptacle, he trotted down to the library to find out what Zach wanted.<p>

"Morning," he said as he entered the room. "Just had to drop off some firewood. What's up?"

Zach put down _The Herald_ and raised his eyes to his nephew. "By any chance did you have company last night?" he asked, his face carefully, deliberately serious. "Thought I heard voices earlier."

Damon's eyebrows jumped in surprise. He'd thought they'd been quiet enough, and that he'd succeeded in getting Elena out of here undetected. Clearly his uncle was more aware than he'd given him credit for.

"Um…" He opted for an accompanying 'hey, guess you caught me' kind of guilty smirk. Maybe it would be better at this point to just let Zach jump to his own conclusions.

His uncle broke out into a wide, toothy smile. "Really? You? Mr. Self-Proclaimed Hermit? What happened to the whole 'I've sworn off women forever' thing?"

"What makes you so sure my company was a woman?"

"Please." Zach shook his head, raising a skeptical brow. "I've been around the block a few times in my younger days, you know. Plus," he added, "I heard her laugh as you snuck her out this morning."

Damon couldn't help wondering if he knew who his guest had been. He assumed not, since his uncle and Grayson Gilbert were friends, and Zach knew full well that Elena was four years his nephew's junior and still in high school. Damon was pretty sure if his guest's identity was known, he would have heard the first of several lectures about it already.

"You got me," he admitted, lazy smirk still in place. "Just blowing off some steam. No harm in that, right?"

"Depends. Does she know that's all it was?"

With a small nod, Damon assured him, "Yep. It's all good."

Zach stood and came toward him. "I'm happy you're finally trying to move on with your life a little. I really am. In fact, the only thing that would make me happier would be for you to start talking to you father and brother again."

Damon grimaced, resisting rolling his eyes. _Don't count on it_, he thought.

His uncle kept right on as if he hadn't noticed Damon's change in facial expression. "But just promise me you'll be careful. Mystic Falls is a small town, and rumors travel pretty fast around here." He put a hand on Damon's shoulder and looked him right in the eyes. "Be very sure any women you hook up with know the score. In advance."

Chuckling mirthlessly, Damon stepped out from under his uncle's touch. "Nothing to worry about there. We're just friends."

"If you say so."

Seemingly satisfied, Zach returned to his paper. With a nearly silent sigh Damon decided it might be a good time to head down to the gym to avoid any more discussion of this particular topic.

He knew he didn't have to worry about Elena falling for him. This had been her idea, and she'd been very clear with him about what she expected out of their little arrangement. She was leaving for college in August and wanted no emotional strings. Which was fine with him. It was all he could handle right now, anyway. After Katherine and Stefan's betrayal, the last thing he needed was to let himself get attached to anyone.

Never again.

Elena was sweet, and he cared about her, but there was no point in letting himself think about her in any capacity other than just as a good friend. It wasn't ever going to be more than it was right now. And that was undoubtedly for the best anyway.

As he warmed up with an easy jog on the treadmill, his thoughts returned to Katherine, and he realized something. Before a month ago, though he'd hated himself for it, he used to dwell on her every day. Every hour of every day, in fact. She'd haunted his dreams, tormenting him with memories of better times, then painful flashes of her cruel infidelity. But somewhere along the way over the past few weeks, his fixation on her had lessened. Suddenly he recognized that something crucial inside him had shifted. No matter what the future held, no matter if she even showed up at his door and prostrated herself at his feet, begging him for a second chance, he could never ever even consider reconciling with her.

Because, Damon realized with a weird mixture of shock and melancholy, he was no longer in love with Katherine. He'd never believed it could happen, and then, without his even noticing, it had. The twinge of grief came in realizing that her massive, important, and—whether he liked it or not—emotionally pivotal role in his life was really finally over, for good. Forever.

Upping both his speed and incline, he began to run as fast as he could. The slight feeling of loss ebbed away like an errant breeze that had wafted through his mind. It was replaced with a grim sense of relief. This discovery left him feeling so much lighter somehow. Freer.

Thank fuck.

* * *

><p>Monday morning dawned bright, sunny and frigidly cold. March was a fickle month, always vacillating between her desire to welcome Spring's life-giving warmth or to remain stuck in Old Man Winter's icy embrace. Elena's boots squeaked on the frozen ground as she walked to the bus stop.<p>

Once aboard, Bonnie greeted her with excitement. As she'd warned, she had called Elena right on the dot of noon the previous day, but due to parental ears nearby, Elena had provided only the vaguest details of how her night with Damon had gone. It was clear from her best friend's eager expression that she expected a full run-down now that they were face to face.

Bonnie pulled her into a hug the moment Elena dropped into the seat beside her. "My baby girl is finally a woman," she declared near her ear, chuckling.

Elena flushed as she extracted herself. "Shhh! And what are you even talking about? There was no change to my…um…status!"

Waving her hand dismissively, Bonnie said, "Yeah, but that first time didn't even really count. This is way different. It's for real-real now. And I need to hear all about it!"

There was a sudden burst of raucous laughter from a few seats behind them, and Elena swiveled her head, grateful for the interruption. Jeremy was sitting at the back of the bus, goofing around with some of his basketball buddies. Vickie was nowhere to be seen today. Maybe she'd gotten a ride to school with Tyler again.

Before Elena could really give any thought to it, Bonnie dragged her attention back to the conversation at hand. "I know you're not gonna tell me anything juicy right here and now, but could you at least feel sorry enough for me to provide me with some yes or no deets? Starting with the most important: was it good?"

Elena couldn't hold back a grin. She nodded.

"Did he make you…you know…again?" Bonnie winked knowingly so Elena couldn't fail to be crystal clear about her meaning.

Flushing harder, she nodded again.

"How many times?"

"Um…" Elena's eyes dropped to her knapsack resting on the floor between her boots.

"Whoa."

She looked back at Bonnie, this time not even trying to hide her smile. Leaning close to her friend's ear, she whispered, "Once Saturday night, and once Sunday morning. I don't really know what normal is, but that seems pretty good, right?"

Bonnie snorted, her dark eyes shining. "Yep. Especially for your first time together." She paused, quirking the corner of her lip. "And second." Then her face grew more serious. "I didn't the first bunch of times. But Damon is older and more experienced than my ex. I'm sure he knows exactly what he's doing. You are one lucky bitch."

Elena just grinned.

"And your little FWB thing? How's that working out after this weekend? Still gonna tell me you two are just good friends?" Bonnie made air quotes to emphasize the last two words.

"Yes," Elena replied firmly. "Just friends. I sometimes kinda wish it could be different between us, but there's just no way."

One black eyebrow arched. "Be honest. Are you developing feelings for him, Elena? It'd only be natural after-"

"No," she cut in. "Not falling in love. Just friends. Can we drop this topic now, please?" Elena stared straight ahead at the green pleather back of the seat in front of her. It was clear she had no intention of talking about it anymore.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. She knew there was a huge chance Elena was probably already in way over her head, whether she was willing to admit it or not. The more her friend kept stubbornly insisting on the just friends thing, the more Bonnie worried. Elena was undoubtedly going to end up getting hurt at some point between now and leaving for college in August, but Bonnie would be there for her, like she always was, to comfort her and get her through it. It was what best friends did—they had to let each other make mistakes sometimes, and then be there to help pick up the pieces. She knew it was just a part of growing up, and learning how to cope. So she did as Elena requested and shut up.

For now.

* * *

><p>That evening at the coffee shop was quiet, as Elena had expected. She finished all her homework before eight o'clock even rolled around, and was sitting at the counter with her usual mug of hot chocolate and a novel, when she remembered JAI's letter.<p>

Though it was at home tucked into the book in her drawer with the others, she recalled the content well, having read it over multiple times. Feeling inspired, she tucked her bookmark into her book and set it aside. She pulled her notebook from her bag, turned it to a blank page, and began to write.

_Dear JAI,_

_Your last letter almost has me at a loss for words. My own family life has been so very different from yours. It's difficult for me to imagine the people I love treating me as shabbily as yours have treated you. I know I'm lucky to have the family and friends I do, and your situation has made me even more grateful for them._

_And even more angry on your behalf._

_I'm SO sorry you've had to go through all this. It just doesn't seem fair that life could hand one young man so much heartache in his short life._

_You have every right to be angry, and to want some time alone. You have every right to need space away from those who hurt you to grieve and to heal. Don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise. Take care of yourself right now._

_I have to tell you, the fact that you have made a new friend whom you feel could be someone special makes me hopeful of a change for the better in your life. Although I don't really know you, I truly believe you deserve happiness, and to eventually let yourself open up to someone, and learn to trust again. So I'm pleased to learn you're at the very least open to the possibility with this woman._

_All the best,_

_Miss LL_

Elena read it over once, decided it sounded like it could have been written by a woman a good ten years older, as she'd intended, and then tore it out and folded it up. She'd just finished tucking the letter into the front pocket of her knapsack when the bells over the door tinkled.

Her heart leapt. Glancing over with a smile, she hoped to find Damon, but was both surprised and slightly disappointed to see her brother striding toward her with a worried look on his face.

She stood and looked at him with concern. It was rare for him to come into the shop in the evenings. From the determined expression he wore, he clearly needed to speak to her about something.

"Hey, Jer. What's up?"

"I just got a call from Kelly Donovan. She says Vickie didn't come home last night."

Elena's brows knit together. "I noticed she wasn't on the bus today."

Jeremy took a seat on one of the stools. "Nope. But I just figured she was sick or something. She told her mom yesterday she was headed to the Lockwood's for dinner. That was the last time Kelly heard from her. She was hoping I knew where Vick was, but I haven't talked to her since Friday."

"What did Tyler say?"

"He claims she left about nine. Says he hasn't been in touch with her since." Jeremy looked up and held his sister's gaze. "Her phone's not on. I don't like this."

Elena sighed, pressing her lips into a thin line. A ball of deep cold had formed in her chest. "Me, neither. Do you think he's lying?"

He swiped a hand over his eyes and through his hair. "I don't know. My gut instinct is…yeah. Yeah, I think he's a lying piece of shit."

"Has her mother called the cops to report her missing yet?"

"Kelly wants to wait and see if she shows up tonight. If not, she's gonna report her missing first thing tomorrow. She wants to touch base with all Vick's friends first, just in case she's off sulking somewhere about some fight with Lockwood and deliberately avoiding everyone."

Elena grasped at that idea, wanting to ease her brother's worry. "That's probably exactly what it is, Jer. They probably got into a big fight, and she's hiding out at one of her girlfriend's places. I'm sure she'll be home by tomorrow, and then her mom will ground her for a week or two and soon this will all blow over."

Jeremy looked up at her again, his light brown eyes filled with worry. "I hope you're right."

"Me, too. If you hear anything else could you text me please?"

"I will. I've sent Vick like twenty texts already. Hopefully she'll smarten the hell up and reply to me soon." He paused, then added, "And to her mom, of course."

Elena agreed, and he got up to leave. She was worried Jeremy might head over to the Lockwood's and confront Tyler before the local cops got a chance to speak with him first. But there was nothing she could do to stop him if he decided to, so she just hoped for the best.

The moment her brother was out of sight, Elena scrabbled for her cell phone and called Bonnie.

"Hey Little Miss Sex Kitten. What's up?"

She ignored her friend's teasing greeting. "Remember that stuff I told you about Vickie Donovan? That I'd seen bruises, and then later overheard her arguing with Tyler at the Valentine's Party?"

"Yeah, of course. How could I forget? Why?"

"It might be nothing—God, I _really_ hope it's nothing—but, she's gone missing, Bon. And we have to find her. I have to make sure she's okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Sorry for the long wait, guys!_ _August was a crazy busy month._ _Huge thanks to someonestolemyshoes49 for proofreading this chapter for me. Hope you like it. The plot is starting to thicken! Please review? You guys are the best. xox_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

><p>Tuesday morning, much to Elena's frustration, winter still maintained its freezing grip on Mystic Falls. Her breath made white puffs in the air before her face as she climbed onto the school bus behind her brother.<p>

She frowned after a quick scan of the faces. Still no sign of Vickie.

Jeremy had called Kelly Donovan before they left the house this morning but had gotten no answer, so they had no idea if Vickie had been located yet or not. Elena was growing more and more worried. Something felt very wrong about the girl's disappearance. Right now she was just praying that Vickie would turn up soon, embarrassed and ashamed about running off maybe, but at least safe and sound.

As soon as Elena sat down beside Bonnie, she found out the latest. Vickie's mother had officially reported her missing. The local police, as well as some pitching in from neighboring towns, had already begun an exhaustive door-to-door search of Mystic Falls and the surrounding area this morning.

The whole bus seemed to be discussing it, including the driver. Everyone had opinions. Most of them were negative, blaming Vickie for being a wild child and just running off with no thought at all to her worried mother. Elena heard several students express sympathy for Tyler, but not a single word of suspicion. He was a Lockwood. Therefore he was above reproach, at least in the eyes of most of the citizens of Mystic Falls. She was sure the police, however, would be much more thorough in their investigation. At least she hoped so.

Jeremy sat silent in a seat to himself, arms crossed over his chest as he stared out the window and tried to ignore the conversations flying around him. Elena felt bad for him, but she knew the only comfort he'd find would be hearing that his friend had been located.

At school, it was the prime topic of gossip on everyone's lips, too. Elena couldn't seem to escape the whispered speculations. It was all anyone could talk about. Mr. Tanner had to call her name three times in History, as her mind was so distracted wondering what the police might turn up. The bell signaling the end of the school day brought more relief than usual.

After they got off the bus, Jeremy stopped her on the front steps before they could enter the house. "Ty has no idea where she is."

"You talked to Tyler?"

He nodded. "You were right though—they did get into a big fight on Sunday night. Apparently it was a pretty bad one. He lost his temper, told her they should just break-up. He said Vick stormed off mad."

Frowning, Elena looked hard at her brother. "You believe him?"

Jeremy shrugged. "I don't know. He does seem pretty worried about her. He says he's doing everything he can to help find her. Claimed his dad was even hiring a private investigator. But it could all be bullshit to cover his own ass. Nobody talks about it, but we both know the guy's got a violent side." He sighed. "I don't like this, 'Lena. She'd better turn up soon."

"I hope so." With a heavy heart, Elena went inside to get ready for work. She had a bad feeling about all this. Clearly her brother felt the same way.

* * *

><p>The Clutch was quiet tonight, and Elena sat behind the counter doing her History homework. The few customers she'd had just picked up orders to go. Only Mr. Donnelly still remained at side table nursing the last of his coffee as he read the paper. He didn't mind if she did schoolwork while he was there. In fact, he often would help her out with more complicated math problems if she asked him. If she remembered correctly, he used to be a school teacher many years ago.<p>

About an hour before close, she was pleasantly startled when Damon walked in. She hadn't known if he would show up tonight—they'd texted a few times since Sunday, but hadn't made any firm plans to see each other this week yet. Elena's pulse started racing the moment she saw his face. It was suddenly far too warm in here. She shrugged off her cardigan and prayed he didn't notice how intensely she always reacted to him.

"Hey," she greeted him with a smile, holding the carafe ready to fill his mug before he'd even had a chance to unscrew the top.

"Hey." He flashed that crooked smile she had come to adore so much. "What's up?"

Elena's smile fell away, and she bit her lip. Should she tell him about Vickie? He didn't know any of these people, so she wasn't sure it was fair to burden him with having to listen to all her worries.

Before she could decide, Mr. Donnelly stood and walked up to the counter, setting his empty mug before her. She settled his small bill and wished him goodnight as he stepped out into the cold, leaving the two of them alone.

Damon took a seat on a stool and sipped his coffee. He raised his eyes to hers, holding her gaze. "What's got you looking so concerned tonight, Elena? Something happen since we last talked?"

She blew out a little puff of air. Well, they were friends, and good friends confided in each other. So what the heck, right? She began to tell him about her brother's friend Vickie, her disappearance, and what Elena had seen and heard over the past few months. She even mentioned the suspicious letter from the girl with the controlling boyfriend from one of Miss Lonely Love's column's back in January. Damon didn't need to know she hadn't read it in _The_ _Herald_ like everyone else had.

When she finished, he was frowning. "You think her douchebag of a boyfriend had something to do with this?"

Elena sighed. "I don't know anything for sure, but I can't help being suspicious. He's denied it, of course. I'm sure the police have probably already questioned him a few times. But if he was a suspect for anything, he wouldn't have been at school today."

"That's true." He took another drink from his mug, looking thoughtful. "Well hopefully she'll show up tonight. Her mother must be frantic."

"She is. And so is Jer, although he's trying to hide it."

"He got a crush on her?"

Elena smiled. "He says not, but I think so."

"Poor kid."

"Yeah, he's really worried." Before Damon could say anything else, her eyes flew wide. "Oh! I nearly forgot! What are you up to on Sunday?"

A smirk curved the corner of his lips. "Are you asking if you can come over and…study…with me again?" He winked. "Because I'm totally free."

Heat flared high on Elena's cheeks. She chuckled and broke eye contact to begin wiping down the counter. "I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner. With my family, not just the two of us," she added.

Damon's eyebrows shot up. "Whose idea was that?" he wondered.

"My dad's. I think he wants to get to know the new guy I've been hanging out with lately."

"In that case, count me in."

Elena eyes flew to his. "You sure?"

"Why not? And if you want, you could still come over to my place for a few hours earlier in the day. I'd invite you to spend the night again, but I assume that wouldn't fly two weekends in a row."

_If only I could_, she thought. "Um, no. Probably not a great idea. I hated having to lie to my dad last time. But Sunday afternoon should be fine." She smiled. "I'll come by after church. Then we'll have a few hours before we need to be back to my place for cooking and awkward conversations with my family."

"You're cooking?"

With a laugh, Elena replied, "Yeah. Better make sure the number for Poison Control's saved into your speed dial."

Damon snorted, and stood to come around the counter and grab the broom from the closet. Next thing she knew he was sweeping up, unasked. She shook her head with a small smile and went back to her wiping. It was too bad, really. He seemed like he would make awesome boyfriend material.

* * *

><p>On Wednesday there was still no sign of Vickie. Tyler wasn't in school that day, either. Elena assumed, correctly, that he was busy answering questions and being of assistance to the police with the search. That morning, the entire student body was called into the gymnasium for an assembly about it. It was a rare occurrence for one of their own to go missing, and they wanted to make sure all the students understood the severity of the situation, and how important it was to come forward if anyone had any information at all regarding Vickie's disappearance.<p>

Unfortunately no one did.

On Thursday _The Herald_ published a special full-page report about the investigation on the front page, including interviews with Mayor Lockwood and one of Vickie's teachers. Kelly Donovan had declined to speak with reporters, which in Grayson Gilbert's opinion was very smart of her.

None-the-less, the paper had gleaned quite a lot of personal information about Vickie's family life. They printed that the Donovan's had had an extremely volatile marriage, and that her father, whom she had been quite close to, had up and left his family when she was only eleven. Although Mitchell Donovan had written a few letters, and sent gifts from time to time, he hadn't set a foot back in Mystic Falls since. It was rumored he was out on the West Coast somewhere, but nobody seemed to know exactly where, why, or with whom. The police were not aware that Vickie had been in touch with her father for over a year. Possibly longer.

Elena knew most of this stuff already, having dated Matt for three months.

By the time Friday hit, Jeremy was nearly going stir-crazy with worry. The rest of the town was pretty freaked out right along with him. It was the primary topic of conversation at the Clutch that night, just as it had been the previous three evenings.

Jeremy and Bonnie sat at the counter drinking coffee and talking softly, most definitely not working on the homework sitting open in front of them. Elena kept their mugs topped up, but she was busy taking care of customers until the place began to thin out a bit around ten-thirty.

With a sigh, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ears and went behind the counter to join with them for a break. As she was pouring herself a hot chocolate and asked her brother again if he had heard anything new, the bells over the door tinkled.

Elena whipped her head up, hoping it might be Damon. She'd last seen him when he'd dropped her off in front of her house after work on Tuesday. He hadn't kissed her goodbye that night, not even on the cheek, and she admitted to herself with some chagrin that she felt disappointed by it. Even though she knew she was being silly.

It was not Damon.

It was, however, someone she also had intimate knowledge of, although not for quite some time.

He was tall, with closely-cropped dark blonde hair and broad shoulders, and he strode into Gilbert's Coffee Clutch with a determined expression on his face. The moment his gaze locked with Elena's, he broke into a big smile.

Elena eyes went wide, and she couldn't help but return it. "Matt!" she exclaimed, coming around from behind the counter and hurrying toward him. She greeted him with a hug. "It's so great to see you! Although I wish it were for a different reason. Have you guys found out anything new?"

His smile fell away. "Not yet. Mom is going mental. I thought I'd better get my ass home and support her. The cops have nothing. And they can't locate my dad, so he doesn't even know she's missing yet."

With a small frown, Elena asked, "Is there any chance she could be with him?"

"That's what I was just wondering," Jeremy interjected, coming to stand beside them.

Matt's eyes darted between the siblings. "I doubt it. He can't be bothered with us. We wouldn't even know how to contact him. And anyways, Vick would never go off with him without telling Mom. She knows what a deadbeat he is, and how he left us all in the lurch five years ago."

"Yeah, that's true," Jeremy agreed. Vickie rarely mentioned her father, but when she did it was with bitterness. He actually suspected her cynical attitude was just a coping skill, and she missed him more than she was willing to admit. "What about Lockwood Junior? You believe he hasn't heard from her since she left his place Sunday night?"

Matt shrugged. "No idea. Haven't talked to him. I've only been back in town for a couple hours."

A few more customers left, and Elena poured coffee for Matt as the four of them moved to an empty table. They talked about Vickie at length, pooling all the information about their ideas and suspicions. Matt listened to it all with growing concern, but every once in a while he would glance over at Elena, his face would brighten, and he'd flash her a little grin.

Jeremy and Bonnie had just mentioned needing to head out when the bells rang again. This time, when Elena's eyes shot to the front entrance, she saw the familiar black felt fisherman's cap she'd been hoping for earlier.

Grinning in greeting, she waved Damon over to join them. He took off his coat, then pulled out a chair from the table behind theirs and straddled it, dragging it closer to the space between Elena and Matt. Matt, clearly a bit surprised, shuffled over to make room for him.

Since Damon had already met Bonnie and Jeremy previously, they greeted each other with a perfunctory nod and a quick "hey". That left Matt, who was looking at the new arrival with curiosity.

"Matt, this is my…um…friend, Damon." Elena turned to Damon. "This is an old friend of mine, Matt Donovan. He just got back into town." As an afterthought, she added, "He goes to Duke."

"Nice to meetcha," Matt said politely.

Damon studied at him for a moment, brows drawn in, before replying, "You, too." Then he turned his attention back to Elena, leaning in close to her ear but speaking just loud enough that the others could hear. "Sorry I'm so late. I meant to get here sooner and give you a hand, but my uncle needed my help clearing and salting the whole driveway. Was it a zoo in here again?"

Elena stared at him with surprise. He hadn't even told her he was dropping by tonight, yet he was talking like she had been expecting him, and he'd been running late. Had she maybe missed a text? With a small shrug she replied, "That's okay. It was busy, but I can handle it."

"I know you can. But we've proven how great a team we make together. I'll be here by six tomorrow night—promise."

Before Elena could respond, Bonnie interjected, "On that note, I'd better get going." She flared her eyes at Elena, obviously in reaction to Damon's comments.

"Yeah, me too," Jeremy agreed, standing up beside Bonnie. He was oblivious to any weirdness in the room; all his thoughts were stuck on Vickie.

They said their goodnights and headed out into the dark. The last two remaining customers left money on their table and shuffled out right on their heels.

And then there was just the three of them.

Damon edged his seat closer to Elena's and casually slid an arm along the back of her chair, returning his attention to Matt. "So you're Vickie's big brother, huh?"

"Oh, you know my sister?"

"Not really. I only met her once, at the Lockwood's Valentine's party last month. She was with her boyfriend. What was his name? Trevor?" He looked back to Elena for confirmation.

"Tyler," she corrected.

"Right, Tyler." Damon gave her shoulder a rub. "Thanks. You introduced me to so many people that night—it's a bit hard to remember all the names." He chuckled softly.

Matt's eyebrows flew up as he looked between them. "So I take it you two…?"

Elena's face flushed beet red. "No! No." She pulled her back a few inches away from the chair and Damon's lingering forearm. "We're just friends."

Matt snorted at her facial expression. He glanced at Damon again. Then he smiled. "Cool. Well in that case, can I walk you home after you close up? It'll give us a chance to catch up with each other. It's been too long."

Her gaze darted to Damon. He wasn't looking at her now. He seemed to be searching for any signs of dirt under his fingernails. There were two spots of color high on each of his cheekbones. Maybe it was from the cold air he'd just come in from. She tried to recall if he always got those red patches on cold nights. Then she remembered that Matt was waiting for her response.

"Actually," she started, intending to tell him that she already had a lift home tonight. But before she could get the rest of the words out, the metal legs of Damon's chair groaned as they were harshly pushed across the linoleum.

He stood abruptly. "I have to take off, too. Just wanted to pop in for a minute and say 'hi'. Great to meet you…um…Matt, right? Catch you later, Elena." Grabbing his coat from the table behind him, he headed for the door.

Elena was shocked by his strange behavior. So much so that she didn't even say goodbye. A gust of cold air swirled inside as the door swung shut behind him. Was it just her, or had the air gotten chillier in here even before he'd opened it?

She looked back at Matt. "Sure, company on my walk home would be nice. I'll just balance the cash register and wash up this last batch of mugs, if you don't mind waiting."

She couldn't help feeling disappointed at Damon's sudden departure. His unexpected appearance had pleased her, and she'd been hoping for some alone time on the drive home he always offered. His whole demeanor had seemed weird tonight, and she wasn't sure why. If it had been anyone other than Damon, she'd probably think…no. It's not like he could be jealous of Matt. Could he? She pushed that thought away, chuckling to herself at the ridiculousness of it.

* * *

><p>Damon slammed the front door of the boarding house behind him rather harder than he'd intended. It was just past one in the morning, and his uncle would be sound asleep. He stopped and listened for any sign of movement in the large house. Other than the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the adjacent drawing room, everything was silent.<p>

Which was good. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

The most irritating part was that he knew damn fucking well he had no right at all to be pissed off. He just…was.

Something about that Matt guy—the way he'd kept ogling Elena, the way he'd insidiously worked his way into walking her home the very second she'd explained to him that she and Damon weren't a couple—it just made him want to punch something. Well, _someone_, if he was being honest.

But he couldn't say a word, couldn't even react around them. Because Elena was right—they _were_ just friends. Friends who'd recently seen each other naked, sure, but only friends nonetheless.

So he'd scooted out of the coffee shop like his ass had been lit on fire, jumped into his Jeep, and driven off without any destination in mind. For over an hour, he'd just roamed around the town of Mystic Falls and the back roads surrounding it. He had avoided driving down her street, however. It wouldn't do to be noticed by Elena and end up looking like some kind of stalker. And, honestly, he really had no urge to come across the two of them walking together.

This wasn't jealousy. Damon was _not_ the jealous type. Never had been, not even with Katherine. He'd always been quite confident in both himself and whichever woman he was dating. He'd never felt threatened by other guys, never worried that the girl at his side might up and leave him for someone else someday. It had always been Damon who'd done the leaving, after all. Well, before the whole Katherine and Stefan debacle, that is.

Was _that_ what this was about? Had those two assholes turned him into some kind of wussy ball of fucking insecurity now? This thought made Damon so livid he could almost feel the steam rising from his ears.

_Insecure, my ass_, he fumed, stomping up the first riser of stairs and taking a left in the direction of the library instead of continuing up to his room. Clearly Zach had been reading in here before he'd gone to bed—the embers in the fireplace were still glowing faintly, and the dark-paneled room had not yet lost all its warmth.

Damon poured himself two inches of bourbon into one of his uncle's precious crystal lowballs and dropped heavily into the wingchair nearest the dying fire. The alcohol burned its way down his throat, and created a hot little ball in the pit of his stomach which slowly spread over his entire body as he sipped. He stared out the tall window on the opposite side of the room. The crescent moon glowed through the skeletal branches of the ancient oak tree growing close to the house. It looked…peaceful, somehow. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the caramel-y, molasses-y aftertaste linger on his taste buds.

Katherine was his past. Elena was his present, at least sort of. Temporarily, anyway. He had no idea who, if anyone, would be his future, should he be so lucky as to have one. If he'd learned anything, it was that the most important thing was to focus on the right here and right now. Here and now. Which meant Elena. Screw Matt—the loser hadn't even given her a good first time in the sack. She'd needed Damon to show her how pleasurable sex could really be, something he was fully confident he'd succeeded at. And he was hoping they'd have another round on Sunday afternoon, before he was supposed to go over and have dinner with her family. So there was no need to be wary of her newly returned ex-boyfriend. It was Damon whom she'd chosen to spend what little free time she had with. And anyway, she didn't want a boyfriend. She couldn't have been clearer about that. Therefore there was nothing for him to worry about.

Was there?

_Dude, you've got to rein this insecurity shit in,_ he chastised himself. It was either that or leave town, and he didn't think he was ready to put Mystic Falls and its citizens behind him quite yet.

Maybe he'd just have to show Matt that Elena was currently…off the market. Not without her permission, of course. He'd mention the idea to her tomorrow evening after she was done work, see what she thought about maybe upping the ante of their publicly perceived relationship a little bit.

Unless she ended up going home with Matt again.

At that thought, Damon upended the rest of his drink down his throat, searing a blazing path the entire way to his stomach. Instead of heading up to his room, he trotted back down the steps and to the rear of the house to the gym. Maybe getting in a round on the punching bag before sleep would help burn off this excess energy. He seemed to have an abundance of it lately.

Tonight it wouldn't be either his brother's or his ex's face he'd picture on the bag, though.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thank you to someonestolemyshoes and siberia21 for pre-reading this chapter for me, and another massive thanks to all of you who have reviewed, favourited and recommended this story to your friends. You guys are the best! Hope you liked this chapter. Please review and let me know your thoughts? It would mean so much to me!  
><em>


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

><p>Elena woke up to a bright patch of sunlight across her quilt. She stretched her arms out into the cool air and yawned. Turning to her alarm clock, she realized it was nearly ten. But it was Saturday morning, and she didn't have anywhere she needed to be for a few hours, so she didn't move to get out from under her warm blanket fortress of solitude.<p>

Matt had walked her home last night, and they'd had a good long chat. She'd peppered him with questions about college life, and he'd answered her as best he could. Duke was one of the universities she was applying to, and he'd seemed excited by the idea that she might be on campus with him this coming fall.

And he hadn't hit on her, for which she was very thankful. Before he'd had said goodnight, he'd invited her to come over to his mother's place this afternoon, said he'd be grateful for her company as a nice break from his mother's tension and intermittent freak-outs. Elena had told him she had a lot of homework this weekend, and she'd have to let him know.

Her phone pinged on the nightstand by her bed, signaling the arrival of a new text. She reached for it curiously.

It was Damon. _Morning sleepyhead_

Elena smiled. Maybe he didn't have a bug up his butt about Matt walking her home last night after all. The idea hadn't made any sense to her anyway, but jealousy had been the only thing she'd been able to come up with to justify his strange behavior.

A little wary after the way he'd acted the previous night, she just texted back:_ Morning._

About thirty seconds later there was another ping. _What are you up to today?_

Elena pursed her lips, frowning as she debated how to reply. But they'd promised honesty. So she typed: _Homework, then if I have time I might go check up on Matt and his mom before work._

With a tight feeling in her gut, she hit Send, and hoped Damon wouldn't get all weird about it. Matt was a friend, and anyway, he would be heading back to school in a few days. Damon had no reason to be jealous.

She was up and dressed by the time he replied. _Have a great afternoon. See you around 6._

Relief flooded over her. At least that was one thing she no longer had to worry about today.

* * *

><p>Jeremy left just after noon to head over to the high school for basketball practice, and her father was working at the coffee shop, which meant Elena had the house to herself. The peace and quiet gave her plenty of time to focus, and she completed all her History, Spanish and Algebra homework by three-thirty. English could wait until tomorrow—it was the perfect thing to bring over to Damon's after church.<p>

Since she had a little more than an hour to kill before she had to relieve her father's shift, she decided to go over to Matt's after all. Vickie's disappearance was never far from her thoughts, and she wanted to find out if there was new information.

Her dad had walked to the Clutch this morning, so his car was still sitting in the driveway. Grabbing the extra keys from the drawer in the kitchen, she figured he wouldn't mind if she borrowed it for a quick visit.

The Donovan's lived on the west side of town. Their street was full of small war-time bungalows, most in various stages of disrepair. The house where Matt and Vickie had grown up was one of the nicer ones of the bunch, but it was still in need of a fresh coat of paint, a new roof, and some other exterior maintenance. None of which were probably going to be happening anytime soon. Kelly worked as a secretary at Dr. Fleming's office, but her salary was barely enough to make ends meet, something Elena understood all too well. Matt had been lucky enough to earn a full football scholarship to Duke the previous year, but as far as Elena knew, Vickie's grades were mediocre at best. Chances of her being able to afford to attend college when the time came were pretty much nil. She wondered if Vickie felt trapped in Mystic Falls, stuck in a dead-end little town in the middle of nowhere. If Tyler had really dumped her Sunday night, maybe she'd decided to just run off to try to find a new life for herself somewhere else. It was unfathomably cruel to vanish like that with no word to her mother, but Elena suspected Vickie might not have been thinking straight. Teenage girl's hormones could often make them irrational and selfish—something else Elena got, although she'd so far kept a good handle on her own.

She parked along the curb and carefully stepped her way through the footprints in the snow along the unshoveled path to the front door. Matt wrenched it open a few seconds later. His tense expression morphed into a wide smile the moment he saw her.

"Hey Elena. Didn't think you were gonna be able to pop by."

"I ended up with a bit of time to spare, so I figured I'd check in. How're you guys doing today?" She came into the front hallway and toed off her boots. "Anything new?"

Matt's smile fell away. "Nope. Nada."

"How's your mom?"

"Not great. The not knowing is driving her mental, imagining all the worst possible scenarios. I made her take a sedative about an hour ago. She's finally asleep."

"Poor Kelly. I can't even imagine. It's got the entire town freaked out. My dad has given Jer and me more hugs this week than I think we've gotten since we were little." Elena removed her jacket and perched on the edge of the overstuffed couch in their small, messy living room. Moving some papers out of the way, Matt took a seat beside her. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. She wondered if he'd gotten any sleep himself.

Reaching over to touch the back of his hand, she asked, "What about you, Matty? How are you holding up?"

He sighed. "I have some bad moments where I panic a little, but mostly I'm doing okay. I have to, for Mom. She needs me."

"Yeah, I get that. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too, though."

With a small smile, he said, "Well, I gotta admit: seeing you again has been great. Sorry I kinda fell outta touch after I left for school."

Elena tilted her head slightly, a little perplexed. It's not like she'd really expected him to stay in regular contact. Sure they were friends, casual friends, but they'd never been super close, especially after they'd broken up. "That's okay. I'm glad I can help take your mind off things, even if only temporarily."

At that, Matt's face grew serious, and he held her gaze, looking intently into her eyes. He took her hand and sandwiched it between his larger ones, rubbing his thumb over her palm. "We were good once," he said in the tone of someone who had just recalled some long forgotten pleasant memory. "Remember that, 'Lena? Remember when we were good?"

Mutely she nodded. She debated retrieving her hand, but didn't.

His voice grew softer, huskier. "We could be good again. I know we could. If you were open to maybe giving us another try…"

Matt inched his head forward. With deepening chagrin, Elena realized he was about to kiss her. _Oh God, no!_ Adrenaline flooded through her as her body shifted into Panic Mode, and she pulled away from him, jumping to her feet.

"I'm sorry, Matt, but I just can't."

His face flushed beet red and he frowned. "Don't apologize. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have. I just thought maybe…"

"It's okay. You're under a lot of stress right now. I know. It's understandable."

He stood, following her to the front door as she pulled her jacket back on. "It's that Damon guy, isn't it? I saw the way you two looked at each other last night. You said you were just friends, but that's not really true, is it?"

Elena stared at him, debating how to reply. Finally she exhaled in submission and just shook her head.

"Thought so. Why the secrecy, then? Why not just admit it, and save us both this afternoon's embarrassment?"

"Um…" She shoved her feet into her boots. "It's…it's just sort of…complicated. We aren't really…"

"Let me guess. You haven't defined your relationship status yet, right? And you didn't want to freak him out by telling me he was your boyfriend right in front of him?"

_Not exactly, but it'll do_, Elena thought. With a relieved smile, she nodded. "Something like that, yeah."

"I'm really sorry for, you know, earlier. I just thought maybe… Well, anyway. Can we just forget that ever happened? Whaddya say?"

"It's already forgotten." She stood on her tiptoes and gave Matt a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "I really hope you guys hear from her soon."

He sighed. It had an echoing regretful sound to it. "Me, too."

On the short drive back to her house, Elena thought about the moment when Matt had tried to kiss her. There was no doubt in her mind about it. He was sweet and she liked him, but she was no longer attracted to him. The only guy she wanted to kiss, the only guy she wanted to be with was Damon. Her feelings for him were…intense. And growing stronger every day.

As she pulled back into her own driveway, she worried the edge of her lip with her teeth, a deep frown creasing her forehead. Not falling in love with him might prove to be a lot harder than she'd anticipated.

But Elena Gilbert was a very determined woman. And it's not like there was any choice in the matter. She'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.

* * *

><p>True to his word, Damon walked into Gilbert's Coffee Clutch right on the dot of six o'clock. Much like the previous Saturday, the place was packed, the bells above the door making near-constant background music against the buzz of dozens of conversations. A line-up extended back from the counter all the way to the entrance. Some were opting for take-out, but most of the patrons were content to just hang out and socialize.<p>

Damon took one look at the crowd and pushed his way through until he joined Elena behind the counter. The moment his jacket was off, he grabbed a coffee pot and an order pad and headed off to serve the customers sitting at tables. The grateful smile Elena flashed him was all the thanks he needed.

They were both sweaty and tired by the time the place emptied out, which tonight was well after eleven. Elena picked up a damp cloth wipe down the tables, but before she could begin he grabbed her hand. "Sit for a few minutes. We deserve a break before starting to clean."

"I can't thank you enough, Damon," she told him, slumping onto her stool behind the counter. "But you really don't have to-"

"Stop. I'm helping you clean up and that's final. If I wasn't here, I'd just be bored at home. Consider it a favor for keeping me entertained."

She rolled her eyes. "I'd much rather be bored. At the very least we should be paying you."

He waved her off. "I wouldn't accept it even if you tried. And anyway, it's hardly like I need the money. But I do need to keep busy."

Bracing her elbows on the counter, Elena looked at him like she was waging an internal debate. Just as he was about to say "out with it", she sighed. "So, I have to tell you something. I went over to Matt's this afternoon."

Feeling himself tense up, Damon tried to keep his voice casual. "Oh yeah?"

"He, uh…" She fidgeted with one of her bracelets. "He tried to kiss me."

Damon's eyes flared, and he exhaled a hard little chuckle. "That's not too surprising."

"It's not like I let him," she clarified. "I pulled away, told him I wasn't into it."

He was silent for a few moments. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he wondered, "Um…why are you telling me this, Elena?"

"I just…wanted you to know. That I wasn't interested. In Matt."

"I knew that. You've been pretty clear about what you don't want at this point in your life. Hence our little arrangement." He paused, meeting her eyes. "Unless…have you changed your mind about that?"

Her brows drew in tight. With a small frown, she shook her head. "No. It's not that. I just-"

"I have an idea," he interrupted. "Not sure if you're going to like it or not, though."

"What's that?"

"Wellllll…maybe we could show him that you're, you know, off the market right now? Up the PDA a little bit when he's around? Just so he gets the hint. I mean, if you want."

As Elena thought about it, her face brightened. "That's not a bad plan. And it'd save me from getting hit on if people around here thought I had a boyfriend. But then we'd have to tell everyone that we're, um, dating. Even if it's just for show."

A lazy smile stretched Damon's lips. "Well, it's not like it's that much of a stretch. We _are_ sort of dating—in a no-strings-attached kind of way. I mean, I'd be happy to take you out on dates. If this town had anywhere for us to really go."

She laughed. "There's a drive-in theatre on Side road 12 off Route 4, but it's closed at this time of year. Not much doing in the winter except going to the Grill or hanging out at people's houses."

"I could take you into Roanoke for lunch next Sunday. Go to a movie afterward, and have you home by dinner. How's that for a real date?"

Elena batted her lashes at him. "Are you asking me out, Mr. Salvatore?"

Damon chuckled, standing and pretending to doff an invisible hat and sweep it in front of him as he bowed theatrically. "If you'll have me, Miss Gilbert."

Through her giggles she managed to answer, "It'd be my sincerest pleasure."

Laughing, he resumed his seat. "Are you sure you're cool with telling people we're a couple? And acting like it when we're out and about? I mean, I know what your priorities are with school and work and stuff. I don't want to be a distraction from any of that."

"You help me here at work. You help me with my homework if I need it, and give me a quiet place to study if I don't. What more could a girl ask for in a guy?"

Damon got to his feet again. This time he went around behind the counter, coming close enough to rest his hands on each side of her waist. Leaning down, his lips almost to hers, he whispered with a smirk, "Don't forget the orgasms. I think I helped out just a little bit with those, too."

Heat flooded Elena's entire body. "Oh yes. Those, too," she murmured.

Then, in the spirit of their new arrangement, she lifted her face the scant two inches between them and kissed him.

* * *

><p>"What time is it?" Elena asked sleepily, rolling over in Damon's arms to reach across to the night stand for her phone. She shot up with a start. "Oh crap! It's nearly four-thirty! I need to get home and start dinner!"<p>

It had been a lazy Sunday afternoon. After church, she'd gotten Jeremy to drop her off at the boarding house on his way back over to the Donovan's. Damon had read while she studied for an hour and a half, then they'd spent the remaining time rolling around in his bed. She'd ended up falling asleep curled up against him, so relaxed she was nearly purring.

Damon's hand tightened around the bare skin of her hip, pulling her back to the warmth of his body. "Nearly four-thirty, you said. _Nearly_. Which means it's nearly time to get up and get dressed." He sat up and planted a kiss on her shoulder. "But not quite yet."

Elena sighed, but her lips curved up at the corners. "Much as I wish we could, there's no way we have time for another ro-"

Her words were cut off by his mouth closing over hers. He ran his fingers into her hair and dropped back to the pillow, pulling her with him so her face was above his own. Their kisses were sweet and gentle, with no sense of urgency to them. Elena loved moments like this; she felt like she could just go on kissing him for hours. If only they had more time to spare so they could remain wrapped up in each other's arms indefinitely. But they didn't.

Reluctantly she pulled away. "I wish I could stay, but I really do have to get home. I can always call Dad to come pick me up, if you want to sleep for a while longer."

Damon threw off the blankets and leapt out of bed, bending to retrieve his discarded boxer-briefs from the floor. "Not a chance. I was planning to help you cook dinner, not just show up and eat it." He looked up at her in time to notice a bemused expression as she dragged on her jeans. "What? I can cook! I told you the women in my household taught me well when I was growing up."

"I know. I just…I kinda wanted to show off for you, that's all," Elena admitted. "To prove I had at least _some_ valuable life skills."

"Ah. Well in that case, I'm sure there's basketball on that I could watch with your dad while you slave away for us menfolk." He winked.

"Yeah, Jer isn't missing any of the college games right now. Ten bucks says they're perched in front of the TV at this very moment, not even aware I'm not home yet. You can hang with them, and if you find you need a change of scenery, feel free to come into the kitchen and I'll put you to work chopping vegetables."

Pulling a blue sweater over his head, Damon looked over at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "Change of scenery? You clearly haven't noticed my domestic side. I'd be more than happy to volunteer to be your sous-chef. If you want my help, I'm all yours."

* * *

><p>They pulled up in front of the Gilbert's small white house at 4:45. This time Damon parked the Jeep in the driveway behind Elena's father's car. As usual, he came around to open her door for her and help her step out. Elena wondered if her father might glance out the window and notice how gentlemanly Damon always treated his daughter.<p>

As they walked in the door, they were greeted by the sounds of the basketball game on the television in the adjacent living room. "Told you," Elena whispered.

Her dad looked back over his shoulder at them and waved. "Hi guys. Hope you got all your homework done." He gave his daughter a smile and a wink before turning his attention to the man at her side. "Damon, do you follow college ball?"

"Sure do," he replied with a grin. "What's the score?"

"Duke's up by 9," Jeremy piped up, glancing over at them. "Martin just nailed a three-pointer!"

"Cool." Damon touched Elena's elbow, leaning close to her ear. Dropping his voice, he said, "I'll watch the game with them for a bit, then I'll come into the kitchen and be your personal slave. Deal?"

Elena smiled and gave him a little push in the direction of the couch. His gaze lingered on her eyes, as did his hand on her arm for a few seconds before he went to join her family.

After dumping her knapsack in her bedroom, she washed up and got to work starting dinner. She hadn't planned on anything complicated, and they didn't have any fancy ingredients in the house anyway, so she just mixed up some batter for the chicken. Once all the pieces were coated, she lined them on a baking sheet and put them in the oven.

Next she began peeling carrots and potatoes. Intermittent cheering from the other room let her know Duke was still ahead. She wondered briefly if Matt was watching it, too. He hadn't played basketball in high school—he'd been fully immersed in football and baseball, but, though he was tall, had never seemed much interested in hoops—but she figured he probably supported all his school's teams. Thinking of Matt made her recall her discussion with Damon last night about taking their relationship public. Would Damon think she wanted to start immediately, today, in her own house around her father and brother? What if he was openly affectionate with her right in front of them? The thought made her tense up. She wasn't sure she was ready to handle that yet. Just last weekend, she'd once again assured her dad that they were just friends. Would he think she'd been lying to him all along?

Just as Elena started to cut up the vegetables, Damon came into the kitchen. "Did I hear the unmistakable sound of chopping? Sounds like someone is in need of a sous chef right about now." He came up behind her, trailing his hand across the small of her back before deftly plucking the knife from her fingers. With the edge of one hip he nudged her aside and took over.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm fine, Damon. Go back to the game. I've got everything under control." Though her words were protesting, a smile still glowed across her face.

Damon dropped his voice and tilted his head toward her. "I already told your dad I was going to go give you a hand. Don't make me look like a lazy ass in front of him. Plus, I'm a pretty good chopper. You guys won't even notice the little bits of my fingers in the carrots."

Bursting out laughing, Elena gave him a smack on the arm that didn't hold a knife at the end of it. "Fine, you win. Can I at least get you a beer while you chop?"

"Nah. Your dad already offered."

"Coke?"

"Just water is fine."

She brought him a glass of water, and began to set the table. Every once in a while, her eyes would dart to his jeans-clad back end as he faced away from her at the counter. He certainly did have a nice butt. Elena couldn't help appreciating the view.

Once the veggies were set to boil, she started to make the gravy. Damon stayed and talked to her while she stirred, and before long dinner was ready.

They all gathered around the small table. It was only big enough for four. Instead of putting Damon in her mother's chair, Elena sat there and set his spot in her usual place. It just felt less awkward to her that way. Her dad gave her an odd look when he noticed the change in seating, but didn't mention it.

"So, Damon," Grayson said. "I'm not sure how you're used to doing things, but in this house we say grace before our Sunday meal."

Damon nodded, flashing an agreeable grin. "No problem. My mom was always big on giving thanks before meals, too."

"Glad to hear it. She clearly raised you well. In that case, everyone please bow your heads."

Before Elena dropped her gaze, she shot a quick glance Damon's way. His eyes were shut, chin down in supplication, but his cheeks had those high spots of red again which she was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. She wondered if the mention of his mother still stressed him out after all these years. She supposed it probably did; it certainly affected her every time she thought about her own mom. Maybe that overwhelming rush of sadness that engulfed her every time she pictured her mother's face was something that would never really leave her. At least Damon would understand those feelings. Most people she knew did not.

Dinner was quieter than usual, with everyone trying to be on their best behavior. The most conversation came after Elena asked who won the game, and since the Blue Devils had trounced the Orangemen in a spectacular fashion, the guys all agreed their favorable spot in March Madness was a sure thing.

After a few moments of silent chewing, Grayson turned to Damon. "So, what brought you to our little town in the middle of nowhere to live with your uncle? I don't recall Elena ever telling me."

Elena glanced at Damon nervously, well aware he didn't like to discuss that particular topic.

A few strained seconds passed before he answered. "Bad breakup. Needed some space to get my head back on straight, and Zach offered."

Grayson nodded, a wry grin appearing. "Ah. Women trouble. I get that."

Jeremy snorted, and his father looked at him in surprise.

"I won't deny it's been a long time, but I did date other girls before I met your mother, you know."

Holding his hands palm forward in mock-surrender, Jeremy said, "Okay, okay! I believe you. I don't wanna hear any details."

Everyone chuckled, and Elena shot her brother a grateful look.

Turning back to Damon again, Grayson asked, "So how've you been liking Mystic Falls so far? Think you might stay for a while? Maybe look for work here?"

Damon lifted his eyes to hold Elena's. Reaching across the corner of the table, he put his hand on top of hers and gave her fingers a squeeze. Right in front of her family. She felt her face heat up and knew she had turned bright red.

Without shifting his gaze away from hers, he replied, "It's been so much better than I ever expected it to be. Thanks to meeting your beautiful and remarkable daughter here, I have every intention of sticking around."

"Damon…" Elena whispered. She wanted to tell him to please shut up, but his words were so sweet. She couldn't look away.

The sound of Jeremy clearing his throat brought her back to reality. "Um, hello?" he exclaimed. "Other people in the room with you two right now."

Damon retrieved his hand, and looked back at her father. "I'm sorry, I just mean that getting to know her and having her friendship has been absolutely invaluable the past couple months."

Jeremy stood up from the table, grabbing the dirty plates and taking them to the sink. He had clearly had enough of this particular conversation. Neither the basketball game, nor their dinner guest could take his mind off the fact that Vickie had still not been heard from.

He turned on the water and began to fill the sink to start the dishes. As Damon stood to go help out, Grayson said, "The two of you come sit down in the living room with me for a moment, would ya?"

Elena and Damon shot a glance at each other before doing as they'd been asked. They sat side by side on the couch and her dad took the chair, angling it toward them.

He looked between the two of them, then held his daughter's eyes. "Elena, you've been telling me for weeks you two are just friends. But that's a big fat ole lie now, isn't it?" His voice was soft and serious.

_Oh crap_. She'd been dreading this conversation. She sucked a sharp breath. "Daddy, no! It's not like that. When I said we were just friends, I wasn't lying!"

Grayson frowned. He gaze shifted between them again. "I don't disapprove of him, hon. You know I just want you to be happy. But what I won't abide by is my teenage daughter sneaking around, and lying to me. Tell me the truth about what's going on between you two."

"Sir…" Damon started.

"We're dating," Elena cut in. "Now. But we _were_ just friends. Honest. We always intended to be just friends, even once we realized we were, um, you know, kinda into one another. On account of me having such a heavy load of schoolwork right now, and working so many hours at the Clutch. And of course leaving for college this summer. I didn't want a boyfriend to distract me."

"Which I totally get," Damon added. "And I had no intentions of finding another girlfriend after the way the last one screwed me over. But-"

"But somehow things changed." She glanced at Damon and smiled. "Damon doesn't keep me from the important things I need to do—he helps me out and I get them done faster. And we finally talked about stuff the other night, and realized we did want more, after all. So yeah, we're…um…a couple now, I guess."

Damon reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. They looked at her father together, united.

Grayson's face remained impassive for a long moment. Suddenly he broke into a wide smile. "Glad to hear it! My baby girl needs all the happiness in her life she can get. As long as you don't distract her from her education, or break her heart, you two dating is fine by me."

"I would never hurt her," Damon proclaimed solemnly, giving her hand a squeeze as his other one came up to rest palm down over his heart. Elena had to restrain a giggle at his theatrics.

"See that you don't. And on that note, I have some paperwork I need to get done, so I'm going to retire to my room." Grayson stood, wishing them goodnight as he left the living room.

Damon and Elena turned to look at each other. She pulled her hand out of his and rolled her eyes. "Well that was….completely not what I was expecting. And weird. And awkward. Although I'm glad he's fine with it. But my heart was beating a mile a minute for a bit there! You're a pretty good actor. Maybe you have a future in Hollywood someday."

Damon laughed. "Maybe. But I just told him the truth, same as you did. No acting required."

"It was the _way_ you acted though! Holding my hand, looking deep into my eyes—I think you almost made Jer vomit his dinner back up! So, you know, good show, I guess. I'm sure Matt and everyone else will buy the whole thing."

His brows narrowed a fraction. "I'm glad you liked it. And as a good fake boyfriend should do, I'm going to head home and leave you to finish the remainder of your English assignment." He stood and walked to the door, grabbing his jacket from its peg on the coat-stand.

"You can't stay a little longer? We could watch some TV or something?"

"Nah, I'd better run. You'll get sick of me if I stick around. Thanks for dinner."

She tried to keep her face deliberately relaxed. "Okay. Well, thanks for…keeping me company all day."

"Goodnight, Elena."

At that, he walked out the door. Without a kiss or even a hug in parting. Which disappointed her. Rather a lot. She put her hand on the doorknob to call him back for a proper goodnight, but then she changed her mind and let her fingers fall away.

No one was watching. And they weren't in bed. So no kisses or touches required. Right? Was that the way this was going to be now?

With a sigh, she told herself this was what she wanted, after all. What she needed.

Even if some of it kind of sucked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Thanks to someonestolemyshoes and siberia21 for pre-reading and proofreading this for me. You guys are the best! Huge thanks to everyone who has left me reviews! It means so much to me to know your thoughts. As for those missing the letters, they will be back, don't worry. Some stuff has to happen first before JAI will feel the need to write back to Miss LL. Pretty please review, it won't take you long, and it does help inspire me to write faster! :) _


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

><p>The following week went by quickly, with lots of assignments due and general rushing around as both students and teachers prepared for the upcoming Spring Break. There was still no news about Vickie, and people around town had grown negative as they started to assume the worst.<p>

Matt dropped into the Clutch on Monday night to let Elena know he was going back to college in the morning. His mom had told him there was nothing more he could do by staying here with her, and she didn't want him to miss his final exams. So he was heading back to Durham for now, but he promised he'd be back if any news turned up about Vickie. Which hopefully would be sooner rather than later.

Elena replied that she hoped he'd have a good reason to be back soon, and asked him to text her as soon as they found out anything. He gave her a hug and wished her well before heading out into the night.

She stared at the door for a few moments after he'd left. The shop was empty, her homework was done, and she was feeling a little lonely with an hour left to go until she could close up. She'd really been hoping Damon would drop by, but after the way they'd left things the night before, she wasn't so sure he would. Ironically, their main reason for going public about their 'relationship' had just walked out the door, about to leave town. But it was too late now. After last night with her father and Jeremy, they were already out in the open, and unless she told her dad they'd split, they'd have to stay that way for the time being.

Unless they staged a break-up. The thought sent panicky tendrils twisting around Elena's chest. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. At least not anytime soon, although she supposed it was inevitable at some point over the next five months.

Sighing, she pulled her phone from her knapsack and checked it for new messages. There were none.

* * *

><p>The persistent rattling of the chain which affixed the punching bag to the ceiling echoed through his head, drowning out his tumultuous thoughts as Damon pummeled the crap out of the oblong leather sack.<p>

"You're gonna break that thing right off if you keep that kind of assault up." His uncle's dry voice interrupted his workout. Damon's fists fell to his sides, his chest heaving, his t-shirt soaked with sweat as he looked sharply toward the door.

He reached for his water bottle and downed a few large gulps before answering. "Just trying to release some…uh…excess energy. Sorry, I'll try to be more gentle with her." He gave the bag an affectionate swipe as he smirked at Zach.

His uncle frowned. "Is all this pent-up frustration still about Stefan and your ex? Or has something else got you all hot under the collar now?"

Elena's face flashed into his mind for a moment, but he shoved the image away. Everything between them was fine. Things were just the way they each wanted them to be. So clearly that couldn't be why he felt so damn edgy all the time lately.

"No idea. I think maybe I'm just ready for Spring to finally show up so I can get outdoors more."

Zach laughed. "I think we're all feeling that way. Good news on that front though—it's supposed to warm up again by the weekend. They say we could hit the high sixties."

A genuine smile spread across Damon's face. "Great! I'm taking Elena to Roanoke for the day on Sunday, so some nice weather would be just the ticket."

His uncle frowned, narrowing his eyes. "Elena Gilbert?"

_Oh shit._ Damon should have realized the news hadn't spread as far as Zach's ears yet. If it had, he surely would have known about it. Well, Grayson seemed to be fine with them dating, so therefore his uncle would have to be as well. And if not, Damon would simply tell him the truth—that they were just friends, but pretending to be a couple to keep Elena's ex from trying to get back in her pants.

He decided to keep his answer simple and see where the conversation went. "Yep."

One of Zach's brows arched. "Isn't she a little young for you?"

Sighing, Damon said, "If you're wondering if her father is going to storm over here and raise hell, you can rest easy. He knows. And he's cool with it." He grabbed his towel and threw it over his shoulders. "And it's nothing serious. We're mostly just hanging out. No offense, but it's been kind of nice to have some company in this crappy little town other than just yourself."

That earned him a small smile.

"I've been helping her with her homework and stuff. She's leaving for college this summer anyway, so she's not looking for a serious relationship—and you know damn well I'm not, either."

Zach gave him a long look. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, then shut it again. Finally he said, "Just remember what I told you a few weeks ago. Make sure she knows the score. I'd hate for either of you to end up getting hurt."

"Nothing to worry about," Damon assured him and he brushed past to head down the hallway toward the main staircase to go up to his room and shower.

He just hoped that declaration was true, because lately a few nagging little whispers of doubt had begun sneaking in.

* * *

><p>At eleven-thirty on Sunday morning, Damon pulled up in front the Gilbert's house. For once the weather forecasters had been right—it was a beautiful, warm weekend. Sunshine through the windshield warmed the interior of his Jeep so much he'd tossed his coat in the back. The driver's side window was down, and the entire outdoors seemed to be wet and dripping as the snow banks and icicles gave up their stronghold on the world, finally surrendering to the sun's welcome dominance.<p>

Before he could even walk up the steps to the front door, Elena pulled it open and greeted him with a wide smile. She was wearing heels and a black and white floral dress that skimmed the tops of her knees, presumably still in her church outfit. Damon hadn't seen her dressed up since the evening of the Valentine's party, when she'd ended the night lip-locked and straddling him in the backseat of his Jeep. He grinning at the memory, and felt the crotch of his jeans grow tighter.

"Hey," she said. "Just give me two minutes to change, and I'll be right out."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't change," Damon told her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him so he could greet her with a quick kiss. They were in public, after all, so she couldn't very well protest. Not that he thought she would, exactly, but after her comments last Sunday night before he'd left, he'd decided once they were out of Mystic Falls today it might be best to just leave that ball in her court.

Elena looked down at her outfit doubtfully. "Aren't I a bit over-dressed for lunch and a movie?"

He shook his head and smiled. "You look beautiful. And it's warm today, so just grab a jacket and we can get going. I promise I'll have you back here before the sun goes down and it gets cold again."

'Okay," she agreed, stepping back inside to retrieve her spring jacket. Damon heard her dad call to her to have a great day. "Will I be home by dinner?" she whispered to Damon.

After he promised she would be, she closed the door and they were on their way.

They'd barely rounded the corner onto Main Street when Elena turned to him. "You don't have to do this, you know."

Damon shot a glance her way. "Do what?"

"Drive all the way to Roanoke with me today. Take me to lunch and a movie and stuff. We could just go back to your place for the afternoon instead. No one would need to know we didn't really go."

He snorted. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me you'd rather spend the day in my bed than out enjoying my company in more public places?"

"No! Well, I mean, that _would_ be a great alternative. But I just meant you could save the cost of gas and entertainment if you wanted. We could tell everyone we had a fun afternoon in the city and leave it at that."

With a small frown, Damon said, "My uncle would probably notice you being in my bedroom all day instead of where I told him we were going." They drove past the Clutch and turned right onto Route 4. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…I don't want to spend all day in bed—I _want_ to take you out on a real date. I've been looking forward to this all week. And money's not really an issue for me, in case you haven't already noticed. So would sticking with the original plan still be okay with you?"

He flicked his eyes toward Elena again and saw she was staring at him with what looked like surprise.

"Okay."

"Okay, you're settling? Or okay, you actually want to do this?

She smiled. "I've never done anything like this before in my life, never had a guy want to take me out to anything more than a burger at the Grill. So yeah, if you're really up for it, let's do it."

"Okay," Damon chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "Teenage boys in this town are clearly idiots. Be prepared to have an awesome day. And if my timing is good, maybe I'll be able to get us back to town with an hour or so to spare. So, we can still go to my place for a bit, if you're not sick of me by then." He flashed her a smirk.

With a genuine laugh that made his heart clench in ways he hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time, she readily agreed.

* * *

><p>The drive to Roanoke took nearly an hour. When she wasn't admiring the scenery, Elena kept changing the station on his radio, fiddling with the tunes, and popping CDs in and out until Damon felt like he might lose his mind if she didn't let at least one song play all the way through.<p>

They followed the line of the Blue Ridge Mountains, which sometimes regressed into the distance, and sometimes were so close that the highway had been blasted right through the rock, and cliffs of broken-edged strata bracketed the road. The Jeep crested a rise, and then they began the descent into the sprawling Roanoke Valley. The entire city laid spread out before them; the sun reflected off the winding Roanoke River, turning it to a long metallic snake that twisted its way through the fields before disappearing between buildings and reappearing, thinner, off in the distance. Large patches of green spread down the slopes of the valley where the snow had melted away, but the mountaintops were white and cold as ever.

Elena was singing along to some dance track he'd never heard before when Damon at last pulled off onto a side-road and came into the small city. He had only been to Roanoke a few times in the past, but it was easy enough to follow the signs that pointed the way to the downtown.

"So what do you feel like for lunch?" he asked. "There's lots of choices along this street."

Her eyes were wide as she gazed out the window at the various places they drove past. With a small shrug, she said, "It's up to you."

Damon glanced over at her and sighed softly. He kept forgetting she'd rarely been out of Mystic Falls. Nosing the Jeep into an empty parking spot along the side, he said, "How about we just get out and stretch our legs and see what we can find?"

They strolled along the sidewalk for a while, looking at the shops and just enjoying the sunshine. He was tempted to reach for Elena's hand, but kept talking himself out of it, convincing himself that there was no one around she would want him to 'put on a show' for. Then he remembered that she'd never had a guy take her out and treat her right before. She was sweet and honest and worked hard, always trying to be everything to everyone. It seemed to him that, other than her schoolwork, she put her own needs pretty low on her personal priority list. They might only have a temporary no-strings-attached kind of relationship, but dammit this was a girl who deserved to know what it was like to be spoiled

So Damon took a chance and grasped her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as they walked. She looked up at him, a surprised expression flying across her face for a brief moment, and he worried she was going to make some excuse and pull away. But she didn't. She just flashed him that cute little smile he adored and turned back to checking out the stores as they passed.

"How about here?" he suggested, gesturing with his free hand toward a narrow, brightly-painted Mexican restaurant that was sandwiched between an antique shop and an ice cream parlor.

Elena stopped and examined the menu posted to the door. A small frown creased her forehead. "I've never had real Mexican food before. Just nachos from the Grill and tacos my mom used to make sometimes."

"Well then it's settled," Damon told her, pulling open the lime green door. "C'mon."

The interior, too, was decorated in garish, yet cheerfully wild colors. He pulled out a yellow chair for her at a bright red table right by the front window so they could have a view of the passers-by on the sidewalk as they ate.

Elena wasn't sure what to get, so Damon took the liberty of ordering chicken fajitas for both of them. He thought she'd enjoy how the chicken would arrive on a sizzling platter, and she could choose her own toppings as she saw fit.

After the waitress left, she raised her eyes to him and flashed that shy little smile again.

"What?" he asked.

"I just want to thank you."

Damon was confused. "For what?"

"For taking me out today. You really didn't have to…"

"I wanted to. Elena, I need you to do me a favor today, please."

Her brows furrowed. "What's that?"

"I want you to stop thanking me. Stop feeling guilty, or like you're taking advantage of me somehow. I wouldn't have offered, or be here with you right now if I didn't want to be. It doesn't matter if we're a real couple," he paused to make air quotes with his fingers to emphasize the word _real_, "or just Friends With Benefits. Face it—I like spending time with you." He grinned at her, hoping she'd understand how much he meant it.

Thankfully she smiled back, a little wider this time, but equally as shy. His heart did that weird double-thump against his chest again the moment he saw it.

"I like spending time with you, too. In case you haven't already noticed," she confessed quietly.

"Good. So is it okay if we just relax and have fun today? No more worrying? Deal?"

"Deal."

Just then the waitress came back over with their drinks and homemade salsa and chips. Elena's eyes lit up the moment she tasted the fresh tomato, onion and cilantro dip. "Mmm, that's really good!"

Damon agreed. Then he began to tell her about an authentic Mexican place he used to frequent in Richmond before it closed up a few years back. Before long their food arrived. Happily, it lived up to his expectations. Elena emptied her plate and was soon groaning as she rubbed her distended tummy.

"I'm stuffed! And now I'll have to walk around with a food baby belly all afternoon!"

He burst out laughing. "I'm sure I'll have a matching one. We'll just have to pretend like we're expecting twins!"

At that, Elena's higher pitched giggles filled his ears and strange sensation spread over him. Had Katherine's laughter ever made his chest tighten at the same time as his entire body felt lighter, freer, like that? A few weeks ago he was pretty sure his answer would have been yes. But now, he honestly couldn't really remember.

* * *

><p>They scrolled through a list of movie options on Damon's phone, finally settling on a screwball comedy. After he looked up directions to the theater, they walked back to the Jeep and made their way over. It was in a strip mall close to the Roanoke River, and to the right there was a wooded park with benches, a playground, and trails along the water. As they had about forty-five minutes to kill before the movie, they decided to go for a walk.<p>

Damon took Elena's hand again, and she smiled to herself as he intertwined their fingers once more. She was surprised by how natural holding hands with him was beginning to feel.

A red-tailed hawk swooped low over the water before soaring up and perching on a high branch on the far bank of the river, and she pointed it out to him. As they continued further along the path, she grew quiet.

"Penny for your thoughts? Well, with inflation it's probably more like a buck these days."

Elena looked up at him. "I was just thinking about my mom. She went to college here in Roanoke."

"Really? What did she study?"

"She majored in English Lit, with a minor in Creative Writing. She actually got offered a job to work at the college after she graduated, but she turned it down to return to Mystic Falls and marry my dad."

"Huh. So did she ever do anything with her degree?"

"Not really. She stayed home with us when we were small, then worked in the mayor's office once we were old enough to come home from school to an empty house. But that only lasted for a few years before she got sick."

Damon frowned. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Elena dropped his hand and turned her back to him, quiet for a few moments. "It's been two years. I'd thought it would be starting to get easier by now." She wiped away the moisture that had risen to the corners of her eyes. "Does it ever get any easier, Damon?"

With a sigh, he lifted both hands to her shoulders and rubbed them. "Honestly? Not really. It's been ten years since my mom passed away, and not a day goes by that I don't still miss her."

Elena spun around and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. He held her in silence, stroking her back. She vowed to herself that she would not full-on cry, and after a while realized she would succeed. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Welcome." She felt his lips touch the top of her head.

They started to walk again. At first they strolled in companionable silence, just taking in the scenery. Elena took comfort in his hand in hers. It felt nice to have someone to walk hand in hand with, grown up almost.

Just as she was about to ask him how much time they had before they needed to turn around, he broke the quiet.

"I told you my mom died when I was twelve, right?"

"Yes," Elena confirmed. He hadn't told her anything else about it, and she hadn't asked, aware of how uncomfortable that subject always was for herself. She also hadn't known him very well when he'd mentioned it. But they definitely knew each other much better now.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "She had asthma. It was the end of May, and unseasonably humid that year. She'd been having a bad few weeks, and her puffer was almost empty. My brother was home sick that day, so she couldn't leave him to go fill her prescription herself."

Damon stopped and looked down at Elena. His face was drawn and tight. "She asked me to stop at the pharmacy and pick it up for her on my way home from school."

Elena's eyes widened. "Oh crap. Did you forget?"

He shook his head, a bitter smile surfacing. "When I left the school I remembered. But…" He paused, sighing. "I was a scrawny little bugger back then. Thick glasses, and always had my nose buried in a book. I was a prime target for the bullies—they'd often follow me home, chase me, beat on me."

She frowned, squeezing his fingers as she waited for him to continue. She had trouble picturing Damon as a skinny, nerdy, vulnerable little kid.

"Because I needed to go the pharmacy, I took a different route that day, and at first I thought I'd managed to avoid them. But I was wrong. Once they saw me, they chased me for blocks. Luckily I was faster, and I managed to sneak down a grimy alleyway and hide. I had to wait them out for a long time before they finally gave up and left. Afterward, I was pretty freaked out, and I forgot all about the inhaler. And by the time I got back home…" He trailed off. Elena heard the hitch in his voice and realized what he'd come home to.

"Oh God, Damon. I'm so sorry."

He didn't reply. He was no longer looking at her; his eyes were directed across the river, but they had an empty look to them. She knew it wasn't the riverbank he was seeing.

"It was all my fault," he whispered to the reeds.

"No." Elena moved in front of him and took his other hand so she was holding both of them in hers. She forced him to meet her gaze. "It was _not_ your fault. You were just a kid! And those bullies…if you're going to blame anyone, blame them!"

Instead of replying, he pulled her against him again, holding her close and burying his face in her hair. He didn't say a word, but she understood he would always blame himself no matter what she or anyone else insisted to him. Some things could never be washed away, no matter how much time or distance you scrubbed at them with.

For few minutes they just stood on the path, holding onto each other, supporting each other. Then he pulled back and gave her a small smile. "Time to head back, or we'll miss the beginning of the movie."

Damon seemed to come back to his previous cheerful self as they made their way back and went inside the theater. True to its promise, the film was actually quite funny, and they both found themselves laughing throughout most of it. Once their popcorn was finished, he reached over and laced his fingers through hers again.

By the time they were back on the highway headed home, their former melancholy had ebbed away completely. Damon popped in a CD of a band called Spoon, and their upbeat guitar sounds filled the Jeep. Elena had never heard of them before, but she liked them.

They talked about music, and her next English assignment, and before long they were exiting onto the off-ramp that led them to Route 4 and Mystic Falls.

"Do you want to go straight home or…?" he asked, smiling as he raised a brow her way.

Elena felt her cheeks flush. "I think we have time to stop by your place for a bit. If you still want to."

"Of course I want to. I'm a red-blooded man in the company of a beautiful young woman. I'd have to be crazy not to want to."

They both laughed, and instead of continuing down the road that would take them toward Main Street and downtown, Damon took the turn off that led to his uncle's boarding house, whistling along to the song on the stereo as he drove.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Damon was once again making his way down the boarding house's long driveway after having just dropped Elena off at home. He'd declined her offer to come in for Sunday dinner for a second week in a row, not wanting push his luck and possibly make her sick of him. And frankly he wasn't sure he felt up to putting on a 'show' in front of her family tonight, as she referred to it. It's not that it was difficult to be affectionate with her around others—it wasn't. Far from it. In fact, it was becoming way too easy. But something about the way she referred to it as his 'acting' made him uncomfortable. Because, truth be told, he wasn't acting at all. He was just doing what felt natural. She was easy to be affectionate with, to want to touch, to want to kiss. To want to do the things they had done in his bed earlier. Which was a little disconcerting. If he actually let himself fall for this girl, it was guaranteed to not end well. And he didn't know if he could handle a second broken heart. After the last time, the thought of going through all that again—well, he wasn't sure he would survive it.<p>

Damon pulled around the bend and came in sight of the big house. And hit the brakes. An unmistakable bright red Porsche Boxster was parked in front of the garage. Stefan's car.

_Shit_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Sorry for the cliffie! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the closer bond that's forming between these two. Thank you SO much for all your kind reviews! Extra thanks to someonestolemyshoes for pre-reading this chapter. You guys should go read her awesome fic "Word is a Four Letter Word". Pretty please review and let me know your thoughts?_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

><p><em>Four Months Ago<em>

"Hi Damon," Mary, his dad's buxom blonde secretary greets him as he steps off the elevator and into the offices of Salvatore and Saltzman, LLP. "Please have a seat. Your father will be ready to see you in just a few minutes. Can I get you a coffee while you wait?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." Damon flops down onto one of the soft leather-upholstered chairs. The room is decorated in cool blacks, whites, and grays, with stainless steel accents. A visitor's eye can't help but be drawn to the only colors—they pop out of a large Jackson Pollock on the wall behind the receptionist's desk. He suspects it's probably the real deal, too. After all, his dad has a thing for collecting abstract expressionism. A Newman, a Kline, and another Pollock all reside in their home, placed in strategic and highly visible positions of honor.

Picking up the latest copy of _Time_ from the table, he leafs through it idly, wondering why he's been called to his dad's downtown office to meet instead of just speaking to him on the phone or at home. Something is clearly up. But what? He shrugs mentally. Probably just another lecture—he'd had enough of them over the years.

He cools his heels in the reception area for another ten minutes before Mary tells him he can go inside. Straightening his glasses, he opens his father's office door.

Giuseppe Salvatore nods, but does not get up from his chair when Damon enters. He is impeccable dressed in a charcoal gray bespoke three-piece suit. A blood-red tie is the only color he wears, and it demands attention. _He_ demands attention; it's in his very presence—the straight rod of his spine, his flashing dark eyes, the deep, commanding voice that makes everyone around him feel an inescapable need to just stop what they're doing and listen.

"Damon," he greets his oldest son evenly.

Damon is very used to that tone. He removes his jacket and takes a seat across from the large black desk, crossing one leg over his knee as he flashes his most relaxed smile. "Giuseppe. What can I do for you today?"

His dad tents his fingers below his chin, staring at Damon over the tips. He is silent for a few long seconds. At last he begins to speak.

"I'm a patient man, as you're well aware…"

Damon snorts softly, but loud enough to ensure Giuseppe hears. It's the same little non-verbal game they always play. He is ignored, as expected.

"You're twenty-two, son. Twenty-two. High school was—what? Five years ago? And now yet another birthday has slipped past, and still you show no sign of wanting to pursue any sort of…" Here he pauses, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth just a little, peeking out from between his thin lips to have a quick taste of the thickening air in the room. "Higher education," he finishes.

With a small sigh, Damon says, "Ah. This again." He rolls his eyes; more non-verbal sparring. "This was so important you needed to drag me downtown? We could have just had this same old conversation at home, don't you think?" Though he tries to mask it, exasperation permeates his words. "I don't want to be a lawyer. I don't know how many more times I can say it before you'll understand."

"Yes." His father punctuates that one word with an acknowledging nod. "I'm aware. But the question remains: what _do_ you want to be? Other than a drain on your trust fund, that is."

Damon gives him a long, contemplative look. He's trying to decide whether it's in his best interests to be honest or not. Finally he replies. "Well, I know it isn't exactly the future you've always envisioned for me, but I've been thinking lately about teacher's college."

One of Giuseppe's thick eyebrows twitches. It doesn't fly up—he's an excellent lawyer and very skilled at guarding his emotions—but it tremors just enough that Damon notices. This is not information his father is pleased to hear, not a profession he would wish for his offspring. The name Salvatore should be attached to prestige, like a lawyer, or a surgeon, or a possibly even a politician. Not something so low-brow as teaching.

Damon waits for some verbal reaction to his words, but he gets none. Just that piercing stare. He hates that stare. It makes him feel like his father is picking apart his deepest thoughts, looking for the dirty, nasty, hidden truths so he can use them to his own advantage, just like he does in court.

Giuseppe exhales a small sigh. Barely audible, but of course Damon hears it. It's an all too familiar sound.

His dad's tented fingers ball into joined fists and drop to his leather desk blotter. The sudden bang makes Damon jerk in his seat. "It's high time you made some important decisions about your future, son. As you're fully aware, your trust fund explicitly states that you need to complete some sort of pre-approved higher education, or I can cut it off anytime I see fit. Since this year is soon drawing to a close, I've decided you have until next autumn to enroll in college—at this point, _any_ college—if you expect me to pay for it, which means you'd need to get your applications out this spring." He pauses, his eyes turning icy. "If not, goodbye trust fund. Goodbye cushy life. You'll be out on your ass, serving macchiatos at Starbucks to the kind of hard-working professionals you could have been, had you had even a single shred of ambition."

Whether Damon is willing to admit it or not, he has inherited a lot of his father's temperament. His own face matches Giuseppe's stony expression. Rising to his feet, he grabs his jacket. "Message received," he mutters. Then he heads for the door.

* * *

><p>Damon is not in a good mood. Not at all. His dad thinks he's a useless, lazy ass, nothing but a drain on his pocketbook, a deadbeat who'll never amount to anything. The most annoying part of all is that Damon isn't so sure he's not right.<p>

At the moment, all he wants is a stiff drink and Katherine. He needs to look into her flashing brown eyes, smell the rich scent of her soft skin, feel her soothing caress. Needs it nearly more than air right now. Only she can ease his frustrations—she always does.

He drives home too fast, taking the slushy corners with screeching tires, blasting past shocked pedestrians carrying brightly-colored shopping bags. Normally he's a much less reckless driver, but today he can think of nothing more than getting home. To her.

Although he still lives in his father's house, Giuseppe is rarely there and Stefan is off in Charlottesville at law school. His brother comes home most weekends, but during the week Damon usually has the place to himself. While Katherine doesn't officially live with him, she might as well. She sleeps in his bed almost every night, has clothes hanging in his closet, a toothbrush by the sink, a box of tampons in his bathroom cupboard. It's the first time Damon's ever lived with a woman, and he loves being able to go out and still find her there waiting for him when he comes back. He loves waking up in the morning beside her, nuzzling his face into the exotic perfume of her hair right where it meets that sensitive spot behind her ear. He even loves cleaning up all the escaped strands of that long dark hair that end up in his tub and on his floor. Because it's just more proof that she is with him, that's she's chosen him. When he's with Katherine, he knows he's the luckiest man alive. For some inexplicable reason she says she loves him. And he is just over the goddamn moon about her.

So much so, in fact, that some days he has to just stop and force himself to take a breath, suddenly overwhelmed by how happy he is, how happy she makes him. He's never felt that way about anyone before. He thinks he'd give her the entire world if she asked.

These thoughts make the stress from the conversation with his dad begin to ebb away, like steam rising nearly invisible above a fresh cup of dark roast coffee, all the goodness still waiting below in the depths to coat his tongue.

As he turns onto his own street, now slowed to just over the speed limit, he takes one hand off the wheel and reaches into his jacket to finger the small box hiding in the pocket. A smile creases his lips as he envisions what's inside.

He'd been impulsive, he knows it. It's not like they've ever talked about marriage or anything. They're both far too young for that. But…he'd been walking past a jewelry store a few weeks ago and seen a ring in the window that he'd just _known_ she'd adore. And an image of her wearing that sparkling diamond on the fourth finger of her left hand to proclaim to everyone she meets that she will be his wife someday had popped into his head. So he'd just…taken a leap. He'd gone inside and bought it.

Damon has been carrying it around inside his jacket ever since, waiting for the right moment. And now he has a gut feeling tonight is it. He's not going to wait for Christmas, or New Year's, or her birthday; he's going to do it as soon as he sees her. He can't wait any longer to see the expression on Katherine's face when he drops to one knee and offers her the little blue box.

His heart pounds with excitement as he pulls to a stop in front of the triple garage. His father's ultimatum now gone from his mind, he comes in the front door with a smile, leaps up the stairs two at a time, intending to turn right and head straight to his bedroom in the east wing.

As he reaches the top of the steps, Damon is surprised to hear voices coming from the other side of the house. Curious, he changes direction, treading softly on the plush carpet, moving in silence down the hall.

Following the sounds, he turns a corner and realizes the voices are coming from behind his brother's bedroom door. He frowns. Stefan didn't tell him he was coming home a day early. And, more importantly, is that a girl he hears in there with him?

Damon swells with pride at the thought. To the best of his knowledge, Stefan hasn't had a girlfriend since high school. The last one was more than two years ago at least. He's been hoping his brother would meet someone at law school, but Stefan continually tells him he isn't looking, that he prefers to focus all his mental energy on his studies. Their father, of course, insists he's making a smart decision by avoiding unnecessary distractions.

But now… Damon moves a little closer to the door. Stefan is definitely not alone. He begins to back away, to give them their privacy.

A lush laugh reaches his ears, all full of throaty amusement. It's a laugh he knows all too well.

He goes numb.

His body parts seem to have minds of their own, because his stunned brain surely didn't tell his hand to twist open the door, didn't command his feet to enter his brother's bedroom.

The sight his eyes are met with will be emblazoned across his mind forever.

Katherine.

And Stefan.

Naked.

His voice doesn't seem to be working any better than his brain, because although his mouth falls open, no words come out. His throat is bone dry. He can hardly breathe. Still as a statue, he gapes at them, entwined on Stefan's queen-sized bed.

Stefan is the first to notice. Katherine is straddling him, and he grabs her hair—she does tend to like it rough—and sits up. When he sees his brother standing in the doorway, his eyes bulge. His jaw drops. One word comes out, one single strangled word and it puts a stop to everything. Everything.

"Damon?"

Katherine whips around, her long hair flying out like a fan, her eyes also flared in shock. She grabs the blanket and covers herself, but wisely keeps her mouth shut.

All three of them stare at each other in stunned silence. For what feels like a long time no one moves. The room is so quiet. Dead quiet. The lack of sound stretches out so far and so long it's nearly deafening.

Stefan looks like he's about to try to speak again, and seeing his brother's face contort in distress like that is the catalyst Damon needs. He spins around and leaves, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him and nearly running down the hall.

At the top of the stairs, his destination his car and God knows where after that, just as long as it's got an empty bottle at the end of it, he forces himself to stop in his tracks. Yes, he needs to get away from them. But Damon Salvatore not a coward. And this is his home. He's not just going to flee. There _will_ be a bottle in his near future, but it's going to be emptied in his own room, not in some seedy bar. Not tonight, anyway.

So he keeps walking. Once inside his bedroom, he locks his door and pulls a cardboard box from the floor of his closet, upending it. Old clothes he was planning to give to Goodwill land in a heap, one sneaker rolling into a corner. He doesn't even notice.

Damon rips Katherine's clothing from its hangers, tossing it all unceremoniously into the now empty box. He rifles through every drawer, looks under his bed, pulls items from the bathroom cabinet until everything of hers is removed.

Just as he's folding the flaps of the box closed, he hears footsteps approaching his door. There's a pause, then a soft knock. He ignores it.

"Damon?" Stefan says his name in a voice choked with remorse. "I know you're in there. And I know you don't wanna talk to me right now, but would you please just-"

He cuts off his brother's planned speech or apology or groveling or whatever the fuck it was going to turn into by opening the door. A relieved smile starts to rearrange Stefan's frown, but Damon just shoves the box into his arms.

"Guess she's your problem now."

Then he shuts—shuts, not slams, although it takes all of his willpower not to—the door firmly in his brother's stunned face.

* * *

><p>That's the last time Damon opens his bedroom door for three entire days. No amount of pleading, or crying, or yelling from the other side has any effect on him. He drinks a lot, sleeps a little, stumbles to the bathroom to vomit from time to time, but he doesn't talk. He shuts his phone off, but not before deleting more than fifty photos. He's not hungry, although his stomach is definitely not impressed with the lack of respect he's been showing it. It rumbles almost constantly.<p>

At one point Stefan tells him through the door that Katherine has left. She didn't come to grovel for forgiveness through the wood like his brother has done over and over, but then again, he didn't really think she would. It's not in Katherine's nature to grovel.

Stefan also says that he never meant for any of this to happen, but that it's been going on for a while now. He says he's in love with Katherine and she with him, and that he's sorry, so, so very sorry for all the pain he's caused.

Damon, of course, does not respond.

On the third day, his father's fist rattles the door and Giuseppe's resonant voice commands his son to stop being such a goddamn girl and grow a pair. Then, almost as an afterthought, he casually mentions that Uncle Zach wants him to call.

Damon thinks on that a while. His uncle lives more than two hours away, in a small town lost somewhere in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Damon and Stefan visited once with their father quite a few years ago. He doesn't really remember all that much about Mystic Falls. It's pretty much a blink and you'll miss it kind of place.

With a sigh, he turns his phone back on. Twelve voice-mail messages, fifteen texts, twenty-four e-mails, nine tweets, and five new Facebook messages await him. He'd lay odds that the majority of those are from his brother. And that none are from Katherine. But he doesn't bother to check; he scrolls through his address book until he finds Zach's number and, with a glimmer of curiosity if nothing else, calls him.

"Hello?" Zack answers after the fifth ring, sounding somewhat breathless. Damon recalls how large and rambling the former boarding house in which his uncle now resides is, and wonders if he had to run for the phone.

"It's me." His voice is somewhat hoarse from disuse, and he hopes Zach will recognize it.

"Oh, Damon! Thanks for calling. I wasn't sure if you would." He pauses, to catch his breath presumably. "You father told me what happened, at least his interpretation of it, as I'm sure you've guessed."

"I had."

"I'm not gonna try to make you talk about it or anything, I swear. I know you just want your space right now. That's actually why I'm calling." Zach pauses again, and Damon is even more curious about where this is going. He's startled by his uncle's next words.

"I'd like you to consider coming here and staying with me for a while. A few days, a few weeks, a few months—whatever you need."

"I don't know," Damon starts, but his uncle doesn't let him finish.

"Look, Damon. Not sure if you remember, but when I moved out here, I was pretty messed up, myself. I know better than most people that sometimes you just need to get away from your problems for a while, to get some time and distance to get your head screwed back on straight. That's what I'm offering. Time and distance. Plus, I know I'd like having some company. You're welcome here, if you want."

A tight lump has formed in Damon's throat. He's unable to respond.

"Just…at least say you'll think about it," Zach pleads.

Finding his voice at last, Damon mutters, "I'll, uh, I'll let you know." He disconnects, falling heavily back onto his pillow. The house around him is silent and empty feeling; the only noise he detects is the furnace blowing warm air through the vents. It's funny how sometimes you just know you are alone.

Tomorrow is Christmas. Not so many days ago, he'd assumed it would be his happiest Christmas since his mom passed away, as he'd be spending it with the woman he loved—his fiancée—at his side. Now all that has been blown to fucking smithereens. Maybe his father and brother will still end up spending the day with her, but this year Damon will not be joining them.

And just like that, a decision is made. He gets to his feet and hauls his suitcase from the upper shelf in his closet and begins to pack. Once it's full, he loads a large duffle bag as well.

The little blue box that's been hidden inside his jacket for nearly two weeks is left on his bedside table. They'll probably find it and surmise its intent, but so what if they do? It makes not a single shred of difference now. And Damon no longer gives a fuck what any of them think.

Unlocking his bedroom door at last, he steps tentatively out in the hallway, listening carefully for any sign of life in the large house around him. As expected, there is none.

He goes downstairs, but stops in front of the large oak double doors. Setting down his bags, he frowns and makes a spontaneous detour into the sitting room. His mother's photo sits on the mantel over the fireplace, as it has for the past ten years. Damon picks it up and examines it thoughtfully.

She was too young. That lump rises in his throat again as he takes in her dark hair and expressive blue eyes so much like his own. Her cheekbones are high, and a little drawn. Her skin is pale, and she looks a bit unwell. But then again, she often did in the last few years before she passed. She looks a lot like how he remembers her the last time he saw her.

All at once he's that twelve year-old boy again, standing in the front hallway looking up at her smiling face. He feels her dry lips on his forehead as she kisses him goodbye, her hand on his shoulder as she guides him out the door on his way to school. His eyes, which have so far remained miraculously dry throughout this whole hellish ordeal, itch at the corners, and his throat grows tighter still.

Not caring in the least what his father will say, Damon takes the photo with him.

He doesn't head straight to Mystic Falls. Much as he cares about his uncle and doesn't want to worry him, he is nowhere near in the right headspace to spend Christmas with anyone he knows right now.

Instead, he drives to a cheap-ass motel on the west side of Richmond and checks in. There is a shabby roadhouse across the way, and he has every intention of drowning all those clawing demons in his head away with whiskey. Or bourbon. Or vodka. Or rubbing alcohol, if he has to.

* * *

><p>On Christmas Day, Damon wakes up with worn thin motel sheets twisted around his legs, a bulldozer of a hangover working its level best at caving in his skull, and what feels like month-old dead skunk trying to claw its way out of his belly via his throat.<p>

After an unpleasant few minutes bowed down before the porcelain throne, he rinses out his mouth, brushes his teeth, and has a long, although not particularly hot, shower. He braces his hands against the tile and just lets the water drum on his back, wanting to cleanse himself of not only his sins, but also his memories.

Of her.

Of them.

Of his own failings.

Of everything.

It doesn't work. And the booze only allows him a temporary reprieve. There must be _some_ way to scrub off all these unwanted feelings. But he has no idea how.

Then he remembers his uncle's offer.

Once Damon is dressed in clean clothes, he sits down on the edge of the bed. The cheap mattress springs groan as he stretches his hand over to the nightstand to retrieve his glasses and his phone. His stomach grumbles—or maybe snarls would be better way to describe it. He has no idea if he ate anything at the bar last night. Some peanuts, maybe. Which means he hasn't eaten a proper meal in four days. No wonder he feels so damn shaky and weak. Hard liquor does not offer much in the way of useful calories. So, first he orders delivery from the pizza place down the street. Then he punches in Zach's number.

When his uncle answers, all he says is, "I'll be there before New Year's."

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _I hope you liked this Damon flashback, even though it meant there was no Elena in this chapter. I felt it was necessary at this point in the story to include it, and fear not, we will pick up where ch 17 left off at the beginning of ch 19. Thanks to someonestolemyshoes and siberia21 for pre-reading and giving my their feedback, and thanks to all of you who have taken the time to leave me reviews. Every one means a LOT to me!_**  
><strong>

_Would you guys mind if I hijack this A/N for a moment for a bit of self-promotion? Some of you may have read my completed DE AU/AH fanfic 'The Shattered Mirror'. If you have, you might also know it was always my intention to covert it to original fiction and for it to become my first novel. Well, dear readers, that day has come - TSM is now available on Amazon as an original novel! It has been a long, sometimes terrifying, and more often exciting process. If you're interested in checking it out, the link is on my FF Profile and you can cut and paste it into a new window. (FF won't allow me to post a link in here, sorry.)  
><em>

_It's kind of a huge deal to me and I wanted to share with you. Any questions about TSM or my novel, please feel free to PM me. Again, I hope you liked this flashback to the second worst day of Damon's life (so far, anyway). More to come soon. Pretty please leave me a review with your thoughts? You guys are the best! xo_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

><p>Damon sat in his Jeep for a few long minutes, clenching and unclenching his fists as he glared at his brother's convertible through his windshield. What the <em>hell<em> was Stefan doing here?

No, scratch that. He knew _exactly_ why the little shit was here. To give him those big, green, puppy-dog eyes and grovel for the two-hundredth time. To try to guilt trip Damon into forgiving him. To try to get his big brother's permission to continue to be with _her_.

Exhaling a long sigh, Damon contemplated his options. He could just re-start the engine and leave, go back into Mystic Falls and grab a drink at the Grill. If he drank it slow enough, and went for a long, aimless drive afterward, maybe his brother would be gone when he finally returned.

Oh, who was he kidding? There was no chance in hell Stefan would leave until he talked to him. Damon knew him well enough to know that. He was as stubborn as Damon was, and as their father was, when he really wanted something. And Stefan really wanted Damon to ease the crippling weight of his guilty conscience. So unless Damon was prepared to high-tail it out of town for good—which he most definitely wasn't yet—he was just going to have to go inside and deal with his brother face-to-face.

_Shit_. _So_ not what he needed right now. All he wanted was to go upstairs to his room, put on some music, lie across his bed (which probably still smelled like Elena—a thought that made the hard line of his mouth twist into a grin) and take some time to mull over the events of the day. Since that obviously wasn't about to happen anytime soon, at least not until he faced Stefan, Damon reached for the door handle. His boots crunched on the gravel today's welcome sunshine had exposed as he stepped onto the driveway.

When he came into the front hall and shut the heavy door behind him, he heard the voices of Zach and Stefan coming from the drawing room. His eyes rolled briefly to the ceiling, thanking Fate or whatever higher power there was that Katherine didn't seem to have tagged along. Not that he'd thought she ever would. But still. Small blessings.

They obviously heard him come in, because within seconds their conversation came to an abrupt halt. A moment later, his uncle appeared in the wide archway, a concerned expression on his face. "Your brother's here," he told Damon in a low voice.

Damon flashed a sardonic grin. "I noticed. Thanks."

"You want me to stay? Or leave you two to hash things out? _Peacefully_," he stressed.

Shoulders drawn and tense, Damon tried to force his keyed-up body to relax. "I'm good," he muttered. "This won't take long." He pushed past Zach and stepped into the adjacent room.

Stefan sat in one of the high-backed wing chairs close to the fireplace. His elbows were propped on his knees, fingers laced into a fist below his chin as he stared morosely into the flames. He glanced over quickly when he heard Damon come in.

"Damon," he said. Stefan's voice was small, young-sounding. It reminded Damon of when they were kids and Stefan had done something bad, and had come to his big brother for help fixing things, so terrified he always was of their father finding out.

"Stefan," Damon replied tersely, moving behind the bar along the side wall to pour himself a double shot of bourbon. He lifted the lowball and tilted it so the amber liquid within sloshed in his brother's direction. "Libation?"

Stefan's brows bounced up, then resumed their usual frown. He shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

Taking a deep swig, Damon came around and perched on the arm of the burgundy leather couch. "What _can_ I do for you, then?"

"I just…" Stefan stopped, sighing. "I had to…" Another sigh.

"Spit it out, brother. I haven't got all night. Bottles to empty, beautiful young things to seduce—you know how busy my schedule is these days."

Was that a hint of a grin Damon saw flutter at the edges of Stefan's tight lips?

"You're actually going to let me talk this time? I half-expected you to shove me out the door the minute you saw me."

With a wry half-smile, Damon raised his glass toward his brother again. "I won't say it didn't cross my mind. But you drove all this way. The least I can do is offer you a beverage before you leave."

Long furrows creased Stefan's forehead. "Mighty big 'o ya," he muttered.

Damon kept talking as if he hadn't heard. "Since you declined, however..."

"Will you just shut up and listen to me? Like _really_ listen?"

Miming closing a zipper across his mouth, Damon regarded his brother with serious eyes. "So talk."

For a few long moments, Stefan was silent, clearly trying to decide how best to begin. Damon had assumed he'd been practicing his speech the entire drive here, but maybe he was wrong. Or maybe Stefan had decided to toss the planned apology out the window this time.

"I hate that my actions hurt you," he started. "I hate that I allowed that to happen to you. If I could go back and change some of my choices, I would. In a heartbeat.

"But I can't. I can't rewind time to fix all this. All I can do is try to make things right with you, and hope that someday maybe you'll forgive me. I know you might never be able to. Hell, I'll never forgive myself, either. But Damon—you're my big brother. And I miss you."

Damon was silent. He was no longer looking at Stefan; he now appeared entranced by the bourbon swirling at the bottom of the glass he held resting on his knee.

He heard Stefan take a deep breath. "This isn't easy for me, you know…"

A harsh laugh issued from Damon, punctuated with an eye role. "It isn't easy for _you_? Yeah, right. Because clearly this is all about _you_."

His brother ignored his outburst and kept going. "It wasn't easy for me to come out here today, knowing full well it was fruitless, that you'd just push me away yet again. Knowing you're never going to forgive me, but having to keep trying anyway, because I just can't seem to stop." His breath hitched in his throat. "What I did to you was beyond horrible. And you _should_ hate me for it. I deserve your hate. But I just—"

"I don't hate you."

Stefan's eye flared as he realized Damon was finally looking at him again. "What?"

Damon sighed and tossed back the last remaining liquid from his glass. "You heard me. And you're right—I _should_ probably hate you. I _wanted_ to hate you. Convinced myself I did for a long time, actually. But the truth is…I don't."

It was Stefan's turn to stare. He seemed to be holding his breath, afraid any little movement or sound could shatter this fragile armistice into a thousand jagged fragments, each destined to pierce his heart.

After a long moment, in a hesitant voice he asked, "Does this mean…?"

Damon flicked his shoulders in a small shrug, then got to his feet and went back behind the bar to refill his glass. "I don't know what it means. You sure you don't want that drink?"

Stefan sighed. "Maybe just one."

Reaching for a second lowball, Damon filled it with bourbon to match his own. Before he could return to the sofa to deliver it, Stefan came over to stand beside the bar. He picked up the glass and drained it in two huge gulps. Then he looked his brother right in the eyes. "I'm _so_ sorry, Damon."

"I know you are."

Damon refilled Stefan's drink and they resumed their seats, this time opposite each other with the heavy antique coffee table between them. Damon put his legs up on the wood, crossing one foot over his ankle and leaning back against the smooth leather. "So, how's law school? Top of your class, I assume?"

Zach popped his head into the cavernous room a few minutes later, and once he realized his nephews were at least attempting to converse like normal adults instead of about to cause each other physical harm, he exhaled a relieved sigh and came over to join them.

Damon did his best to relax, and to his surprise he found it wasn't really all that hard. Though he'd tried to push the thoughts away, he could admit he'd been curious about how his brother was doing. Not speaking to him for so long had left a pretty huge hole in his life, and he only just now realized how much he'd missed their talks.

Stefan avoided the subject of Katherine—and, of course, neither Damon nor Zach brought it up—right up until around two in the morning when Damon was showing him to one of the former guestrooms where he could sleep for the night. As he wished Stefan goodnight and went to close the door, his brother stopped him with a question.

"Forgive me, but I need to ask." He took a deep breath. "Are you still in love with her?"

Damon's brows shot up. Then his expression softened, and he flashed Stefan that same wry grin from before. "Nope."

"Really?"

"Really. And I'm not just saying that because I know it's what you want to hear. I've given the matter a lot of thought. Too much, probably. For a long time, the truth would have been that I still did, no matter how angry I was with her. But not anymore. The anger is still there, but the love, the desire…it's all just…I don't know. Evaporated. I never would have believed it could happen, but somehow it has.

"Don't get me wrong, Stef. I don't plan on rushing back into the ole family fold anytime soon. Spending time with the three of you is still pretty low on my list of things I'd like to be doing. But..." He paused to clear the emotion beginning to tighten his throat. "I just…lame as it probably sounds at this particular juncture in our lives, I really do want you to be happy. And if your happiness lies with her, then…then, well, so be it."

Stefan examined his face, looking, Damon presumed, for some sign that this statement was fiction, that it was what he wished were true instead of what actually was.

Then his brother smiled. There was more relief in that smile than Damon would have ever thought possible. He clapped one hand onto Damon's shoulder and looked right at him. Stefan's eyes glistened.

"Thank you," he murmured.

For a moment there Damon thought his baby brother was about to pull him into a hug. He recognized the hesitation in his eyes, the worry that it was too big a risk, that he'd surely be rejected. Damon knew Stefan probably better than anyone, and he could read him all too well in those seconds. So he made the move himself—he put his arms around a surprised Stefan and clapped him on the back, once. Then he stepped away, flashed him a small grin and closed the door.

When he got inside his own bedroom, he opted to skip the music and just flopped across his bed. But instead of reminiscing about his afternoon with Elena—that could, and would, come later—his mind re-played his conversation with Stefan.

No, Damon wasn't ready to return to Richmond yet. At some point he knew he'd have to go back, but it still felt like that moment was a long time in the future right now. And there was his father's ultimatum to consider, too. It was already halfway through March. If he didn't want to kiss his trust fund goodbye, he needed to get his ass in gear with his college applications. He wondered briefly where Elena had applied. She'd mentioned Duke, but he wasn't sure where else. Then he snorted, shaking off that thought, chiding himself for the silliness of it. What did her choices matter to him? They would no longer be a part of each other's lives by the time summer was over, if not sooner, so why even contemplate such things as where she'd be attending school?

Damon decided he'd get going on his applications in the morning. It could no longer be ignored, and suddenly felt a lot more important than it had before.

He reached over to turn out the light, but his hand stopped in mid-air before it could land on the switch. Dropping his fingers to the drawer in the night table instead, he rummaged around in it until he found his letters from Miss Lonely Love.

Smoothing out her most recent one, he re-read it, thinking again about his conversation with Stefan and his recent self-realizations.

He stretched an arm back over to the open drawer and retrieved his pad of paper and a pen. It had been a while, but tonight he felt like writing to the advice columnist once again.

_Dear Miss LL,_

_Sorry it's been so long since my last letter. Life has gotten more interesting in the meantime, that's for sure. I want to thank you for your kind wishes. Believe it or not, I think I deserve happiness as well. I'm just not sure how exactly I'm going to get there._

_But! I have come to a couple of pretty important (and surprising) discoveries about myself recently._

_Drum roll, please…_

_First off, I've realized I'm no longer in love with my ex. I know! It was a shock to me, too. But the more I think about it, the more I'm sure it's true. There's nothing in the world that could make me take her back now. So, that must mean something pretty major about my ability to move past all this someday, don't you think? There might just be hope for me yet._

_Second, and probably more important, I'm considering forgiving my brother. My anger towards him, while not totally gone or anything, has lessened. I'm trying my best to understand why he did what he did. Which, frankly, I still don't. But I'm trying. He's my brother, after all. And the thought of cutting him out of my life forever, never speaking to him again, just seems, I don't know, sort of ridiculous now. He's the only brother I've got. He's the only one who really understands me in so many ways, because he was there, growing up alongside me. We went through a lot of good times, and a whole lot more ugliness together. And right now he's beating himself up about this enough for both of us. He needs me. So I'm going to try my best to forgive him for his rotten choices. The truth is I need to just as much as he needs me to._

_So, yeah. Two important evolutions in my thinking recently, so I wanted to share with you._

_It's not much, but it's something. Baby steps, right?_

_Have a good one,_

_JAI_

Damon didn't even bother to read it over; he folded it and tucked it into a blank envelope, scrawling Miss Lonely Love's address across the front. He figured he'd mail it when he went downtown to visit Elena at the Clutch tomorrow evening.

* * *

><p>Monday morning, Elena slept late. When she jolted awake and noticed the little red numbers on her digital clock read nine-fifteen, at first she panicked. Then she smiled, pulling the covers back up over her head as the realization that it was Spring Break and she was not actually late for school set in.<p>

She hauled herself out of bed thirty minutes later and padded, yawning, to the kitchen to make some toast. Her dad had already been at the Clutch for hours, and the faint snores emanating from Jeremy's bedroom told her she wouldn't be seeing her brother's face anytime soon, either.

Elena texted Bonnie to see what she was doing today, but she was tied up running errands with her grandmother all afternoon. She promised she'd meet Elena at the coffee shop after dinner for a study session. They both had irrationally massive piles of homework to get through this week; for some reason their teachers didn't seem to get the 'break' part of Spring Break.

By the time it was full dark out, Bonnie was perched on a stool along the long Formica counter across from Elena. They weren't chatting much tonight-both had their heads down, trying their best to make a dent in some of their studying. Their goal was to get everything finished early so they'd have the end of the week free to relax and have some fun. Mr. and Mrs. Clancy were sitting at a table nearby finishing their coffees, but neither of them minded if Elena did schoolwork in her free moments. The place was typical Monday-evening quiet, after all.

Bonnie put down her highlighter with a sigh and looked up at Elena. "Have they found out anything new about Vickie?"

Elena met her gaze. Worry creased the normally smooth skin between her eyebrows. "Not that I've heard. I can't stop thinking about where she could be, Bon. It's hard to focus on reading, because my thoughts keep flicking back to her." _Or to Damon_, she added mentally.

The jingling of the bells over the door made Elena glance up, and she smiled as the very man she'd just been thinking about stepped inside. She beckoned him over to the empty stool beside Bonnie.

"We were just discussing Vickie," she told Damon as she grabbed a coffee pot to fill his travel mug.

"Any news?"

"The police still haven't been able to track down Mr. Donovan."

Damon frowned. "He isn't online? E-mail or Facebook or Twitter or something? No one has his phone number?" The girls both shook their heads. "Nothing? In the age of the Internet? Then he deliberately doesn't want to be found. Which seems a little shady, if you ask me."

Elena cleared her throat, dropping her voice so the Clancys wouldn't overhear. "He, um, apparently lives a pretty _free_ lifestyle, if you know what I mean. Matt says he moves around a lot, doesn't tend to keep a phone number for very long. He told me his dad has a weakness for…pharmaceuticals."

'Ah. Hippy type? Or just a drifter?"

"A little bit of both, I think."

"So he just up and buggered off on his wife and kids? Class act."

"Yep," Bonnie interjected, rolling her eyes. "Makes my own dad, whom I only see maybe once a month, look like Father of the Year in comparison."

Damon nodded sympathetically.

Mr. Clancy shuffled up to the counter to pay and wish Elena goodnight, and a few minutes later the coffee shop held only the three of them. Bonnie went back to reviewing her History notes, and Elena started explaining to Damon her idea for her big English assignment that was due at the end of term and would comprise forty percent of her grade.

Before she could finish, the bells rang again as the door was thrown open. Jeremy wore an anxious expression as he hurried toward them.

"What's up?" Elena asked with a frown, coming around from behind the counter.

"I…I just got a message from her!" he exclaimed. He was nearly breathless, and she wondered if he'd run all the way from home.

Elena's eyes widened. "Her who? Vickie?" Bonnie and Damon were now both staring at Jeremy as expectantly as she was.

He nodded, dragging out a chair from one of the tables and dropping heavily onto it. "She finally replied to me on Facebook. You won't believe this, but she's out in California with her dad. Says she's okay and not to worry." He paused, breaking eye contact with Elena and dropping his gaze down to his fidgeting hands. "She also said she's not coming back."

"Oh my God," Elena exclaimed. She took a seat across from him. "Did you tell Kelly yet?"

"Nope. Vick asked me not to. Don't worry though—I will. Wanted to let you know first. They're somewhere in L.A." Jeremy raised his eyes back to his sister's again, his worry radiating right through to her. "Mitch Donovan's a total dopehead, Elena. Won't be long before he gets bored of her tagging along, and ditches her again. Takes off while she's sleeping, or something. Maybe even dumps her on some dirty street corner."

He took a deep breath, and then said forcefully, "She _needs_ to come home."

"I know, Jer. Did you message her back?"

"'Course I did. Doubt she'll reply anytime soon, though. Said she lost her phone. I don't even know how she got on Facebook. Maybe she borrowed someone's."

"We've got to tell Matt." Elena rose, hurrying to the counter and retrieving her laptop. She took it back to the table where Jeremy sat, pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket and began typing away. "I'm texting him to see if he can come on Skype right now and talk to us," she explained to the rest of them without looking up.

Damon's brows narrowed at the mentioned of the older Donovan, but he kept silent.

Elena's phone buzzed against the table about a minute later. She snatched it up. "Okay, he's going online right now." Opening Skype, she clicked on his name to call him, and then pushed her computer out so the others could see. Damon came to stand behind her, bracing his hands on the back of chair. She felt his fingertips brush the top of one shoulder, and glanced up at him with a small smile.

"You two Skype often?" he asked her in a low voice, adding a smirk to assure her he was teasing.

Elena snorted, reaching behind her chair to rub the side of his leg through his jeans reassuringly. "Barely. I think we did once right after he left for school."

With a ping, Matt's face popped into view on her screen, and she quickly turned her full attention back to the laptop. Matt looked tired. Elena couldn't help wondering if he was still having difficulty sleeping. Between exams and his family problems, he was probably pretty stressed out.

"Hey 'Lena," he greeted her.

"Hey Matt. Bonnie, Jeremy and Damon are here, too." Elena shifted the laptop's angle around so he could see the others. Her brother and Bonnie each gave the screen a wave. "We need to talk to you, and thought a group discussion might be easiest."

"Oh yeah? What's up?"

"I heard from Vickie," Jeremy told him.

Relief flooded Matt's face and he perked right up. "You did? When? Where is she? Does Mom know?"

Jeremy explained the Facebook message he'd gotten. Elena could've sworn Matt's eyes grew wider with every word.

"Do you have any idea how to get in touch with your dad?" she asked him, although she already knew the answer.

Matt shook his head with a grimace. "Nope. No clue. Last time I spoke to him was…last spring I think. Right around graduation. He didn't call to congratulate me though—he was just fishing around to see if I could send him money."

"And did you?" Bonnie wondered.

"I had none to spare. And even if I did, I've got no desire to fund his bad habits."

"Yeah," Jeremy said. "Don't blame ya. Vick told me all about that stuff. Why the hell would she take off to California to see him without telling anyone, though? That's the part I don't get."

"Me, neither," Matt agreed. "Look, I'm done the last of my exams this week. I'm gonna try to scrape up enough for a ticket to L.A. If I can, I'm going out there to find her this weekend." He ran his fingers through his hair, making tufts of dark blond stand on end comically. "She clearly needs someone to talk some sense into her."

For the first time Damon spoke. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

Elena twisted her head to look back at him. "What?"

"We should go to L.A. and find her. All of us."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Jeremy was looking at Damon incredulously. "How the _hell_ would we afford to do that?"

"Don't worry about the cost. I'll cover it. And it's Spring Break, so it's not like you'll be missing school."

"You can't do that," Elena protested. "And even if you did, my dad would never let us go. He needs our help here."

"Just listen. We could leave on Friday, home by Sunday night. Matt, is there any way you could meet us at the airport in Richmond early Friday?"

Matt frowned. "Um, my last exam is on Wednesday, so yeah, I could probably do that. But why would you pay for us all to go to California? You barely know us."

Elena turned back to Damon again. "Your intentions are wonderful, and I appreciate them, but you know I can't go. Just take Jer and Matt and go find her."

"Vickie doesn't even know Damon," Jeremy said. "It should just be Matt and me."

"Elena, I can cover your shifts for you," Bonnie piped up. "Your dad might let you guys go if Damon and Matt are with you. Since they're older and all. And he knows he can trust you."

Matt sighed. "I'm in. But I'm paying you back, Damon. And if you're going, I'd honestly prefer if Elena came, too."

Elena looked doubtfully at him, then at each of her friends. "Dad might go for it," she said slowly. "It wouldn't hurt to at least ask. I still don't know, though. Four round-trip tickets to Los Angeles is a _lot_ of money, Damon."

"I've got nothing else to do with it." He rubbed her shoulders again.

Elena still didn't really love the idea of him paying for all of them, but she could speak with him about that later, once they were alone.

"So you guys talk to Grayson and let me know," Matt told them. "As soon as I hear back from you, and we've got a plan in place, I'll tell Mom what we're up to. I'm pretty sure she'll be all for it. She knows I have a way better shot at getting through to Vickie than some strange cops would."

Elena glanced over at Jeremy. Matt might not realize it, but she'd bet her brother had as good a chance at convincing Vickie to come home as he did. Maybe better.

"Okay, 'night Matt. I'll text you tomorrow as soon as I know what's up."

"Goodnight all. Thanks for the good news, Jer. Talk soon." He winked out of sight.

Closing her laptop, Elena took it back behind the counter and slid it into her knapsack. Bonnie joined her and the girls began to pack up their schoolwork.

"Well, I'm gonna head home," Jeremy announced, pulling his jacket back on. He turned to Damon. "Thanks, man."

"We'll find her," Damon said.

"Yeah." His expression was more hopeful than Elena had seen it since Vickie disappeared. The bells rang out his departure, and Bonnie followed shortly afterward, assuring Elena as she left that she didn't mind covering her shifts over the upcoming weekend.

Damon returned to the counter and took a sip of his cooling coffee. "It's no big deal, you know."

"It is to me." Elena paused from rinsing out a carafe and turned to him.

"I know. But my trust fund is just sitting there. And it would be nice to see some of it go toward something meaningful, for once."

"I wish I could promise I'd pay you back, but…"

"Stop." His voice softened. "While I do want your friend to return home safe, I'll admit, I have a minor ulterior motive." He came around behind the counter and put his hands on her waist so he could look into her eyes. "You've never been out of Virginia. Hell, you've never even seen the ocean. I want to take you to out to California and spoil you a little, Elena. Will you please let me do that?"

Elena couldn't help but smile as she looked up into those mesmerizing blue eyes. He looked so earnest, and she knew he really meant it. Her heart was suddenly beating too fast. "If my dad says it's okay," she said softly, "then yes. I'll come."

Instead of replying, Damon pulled her to him and let her know just how pleased he was about her agreement by kissing her soundly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _First of all, thank you ALL so much for all the support and good wishes you've sent to me about my novel. You guys are the actual best! Secondly, thank you to someonestolemyshoes and siberia21 for pre-reading this chapter and giving me their invaluable feedback. Thirdly, and mostly importantly, HUGE thanks to those of you who take the time to leave me reviews. They really mean the world to me and keep me inspired to keep on writing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please take a moment to let me know your thoughts in the little box below. Have a great weekend!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

><p>Elena spent Tuesday studying. She was bound and determined to get all her homework done early so her dad wouldn't be able to use it as an excuse to not let her go to California. Damon was supposed to meet her at the coffee shop tonight, and once they got back to her place, they were going to join forces with Jeremy to talk to their father about the trip idea.<p>

She just hoped that Dad would still be up at ten-thirty. He often went to bed early, as he had to wake at the crack of dawn to get ready for work. If he were already in bed, they'd be stuck waiting until tomorrow to try to squeeze in a free moment to talk to him at the Clutch. Which would be pushing things close, as far as ticket buying, hotel reserving, and general organizing went.

True to his word, Damon showed up around eight o'clock and kept her company while she worked on her English assignment, chatting quietly with her whenever she needed a break. A few customers popped in and out, but hardly any chose to linger. The night was clear and not particularly cold, and the citizens of Mystic Falls clearly had more important places to be.

Not that Elena minded. She had too many other things crowding her thoughts tonight.

Damon was using her laptop to research hotels while she attempted to re-read a section of _The Great Gatsby_.

"What about this place?' he asked, turning the computer so she could see.

The picture on the screen showed an elegant gray, black, and white palace. It was a luxury hotel called Shutters on the Beach. Elena frowned, her eyes sweeping over the extravagant facade. "It's gorgeous. But it looks crazy expensive," she replied with a shrug.

Damon snorted. "It's right on the beach, and a short walk from the Santa Monica Pier. It might be a bit pricey, but it's in an awesome location."

"Maybe you'd better keep looking. I highly doubt Vickie and her dad are holed up anywhere near there."

"Yeah, probably true. But how cool would staying at that place be? Maybe next time."

Elena glanced up at him again. Next time? What was he talking about? There was never going to be a next time, at least not with her. He must have meant next time he went to Los Angeles with someone else. That thought made a knot snarl deep in her chest.

Damon resumed clicking away on the keyboard, while she attempted to re-focus on what she'd been reading. It was difficult to concentrate on Nick, Gatsby, Daisy and Tom when her thoughts kept being pulled away to far off coasts.

"Hmm," he muttered.

Elena glanced over. "Hmm, what?"

"I think I found the perfect place." He met her eyes and flashed a crooked grin.

"Let me see."

As she reached for her laptop, he quickly clicked the mouse, and when she was able to see screen, it showed just her desktop background. "Hey! What were you just hmming at? Why'd you hide it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you, Miss Nosy?"

"Thought you wanted me to come with you?" she huffed.

"I do. And you will be, once we convince your dad that not only is this little adventure for a worthwhile cause, but it will also be a fabulous experience for his kids to see a little bit of this great country we live in. At no cost to him. How can he say no?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "He's more than capable of saying no. We'll find out soon enough. But you still didn't answer me. Why can't I see this perfect hotel you've found?"

Damon slid off his stool and leaned over the counter, stretching until he could plant a quick kiss on her surprised lips. She didn't lean away from him, but she didn't kiss him back either.

"Because I want to surprise you," he whispered, pulling back barely an inch from her mouth and staring into her wide eyes.

At that, she couldn't help but smile.

* * *

><p>Ten o'clock seemed to take forever to arrive. Elena got so impatient waiting for it that she jumpedup and locked the front door at seven minutes before the hour. "Close enough," she told Damon, seeing his questioning expression as she grabbed her jacket. "Time to go get this over with."<p>

They were quiet on the short drive back to her house, both mentally going over their impending conversation with her father. Once Damon had pulled up along the curb, he turned to her.

"Nervous?"

"Totally. But the more I think about it, the more I think we just might be able to pull this off."

His face was serious. "I hope so."

"C'mon. We've got to grab Dad before he heads to bed."

When they got inside, they found Grayson and Jeremy sitting in the living room watching the local news. Andrew Starr, Mystic Fall's most dashing reporter, was just telling viewers that there was still no new information on the disappearance of Vickie Donovan, but that authorities out on the west coast were trying to locate her father.

"Good timing," Jeremy said, turning to the new arrivals.

"Did you tell him?" Elena asked her brother.

Grayson's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced between his children. "Tell me what?"

"We have something we need to talk to you about, Dad," Elena said, tugging Damon by the elbow into the living room. They sat down on the couch beside Jeremy.

Her father turned to Damon. "Hi Damon. So I take it you're a part of whatever this is, too?"

With a tight smile, Damon replied, "Yes, sir."

Grayson looked at the three of them, all facing him in a row wearing matching serious expressions. Chuckling softly, he said, "Well, which one of you's gonna start? It's nearing my bedtime, y'know."

Elena opened her mouth to speak, but her brother beat her to it.

"I heard from Vickie on Facebook last night, Dad. She's out in L.A. With her father."

At first, Grayson looked pleased. "Wonderful! Kelly'll be _so_ relieved." Then his smile fell away and his forehead furrowed. "She tell you when she's coming home?"

"She says she's not. You know how her dad is. You know he abandoned them. It's only a matter of time 'til he gets restless and takes off again."

"I've heard some…unsavory…stories about Mitch, yes." Grayson sighed. "But no matter how much you care about your friend, this really isn't any of our business. It's between Vickie and her father and mother. So I don't really get what you need from me."

Elena and Damon looked back and forth between the elder and younger Gilbert. This was Jeremy's fight more than theirs, and they intended to let him say what he had to say.

"Vick needs to get her, um, herself back home before something bad happens. She has no one out there but a guy who—from what she's told me—cares more about finding his next high than his own kids. Sooner or later he's gonna get tired of playing Daddy and abandon her again. She might not believe it yet, but he will." Jeremy paused and took a deep breath. "We wanna go out there and find her. And talk her into coming home with us."

Grayson frowned, again looking at each of them in turn before landing his gaze back on Jeremy. "First of all, who's _we_? And secondly, you _do_ know that's completely out of the question, right?" His eyes widened to emphasize his point. "For a variety of reasons."

"Just hear us out," Elena pleaded.

He turned to her skeptically. "This is police business and Donovan business. Not Gilbert business. End of discussion."

Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair in frustration "You don't understand, Dad! Vick won't listen to cops or her mom. She's stubborn as hell! I'm not even all that sure she'd listen to Matt, although he wants to come with us. But I think I could get through to her, if I could just talk to her face to face. I'd think she might listen to me."

"He's right," Elena said. "Jeremy and Matt are the best chance we've got to convince her to come home. And Bonnie already agreed to cover my shifts this weekend if—"

"Hold up—what? _This_ weekend? And why do _you_ need to go? Or Damon for that matter?"

Damon cleared his throat. "Mr. Gilbert, I've offered to pay for the trip. Matt told us he was going to go alone, and we realized we had a better shot at getting through to Vickie if Jeremy went, too. Matt then said if Jeremy and I were going, he'd be more comfortable if Elena came along as well. Frankly, so would I. It's just for three days, and you don't have to worry about the money. I've got way more than I need, and I want to help out."

Grayson's eyebrows drew in tight. "Matt's cool with this half-cocked plan? Is Kelly?"

"He's gonna tell his mom once I let him know if you agree to let us go," Elena said. "He's just waiting for my text. You're welcome to call Kelly tomorrow and discuss it with her if it'll make you feel better." She bit her lip, looking at her father pleadingly. "I know Jer and I have never been on a trip before, but Damon will be with us, and he's traveled loads. He'll take good care of us."

Damon reached over and took her hand, silently assuring both Elena and her father that what she said was true.

"It's not that…" Grayson started.

Elena didn't wait for him to state more arguments against their plan; she straightened her spine, narrowed her eyes, and said, "You trust me, right? I think I've proven myself responsible. I'm sure between the four of us we can keep tabs on each other and stay out of trouble."

Her dad's tight lips finally curled into a small smile. "That's the bit I'm less sure about. But you're right—of course I trust you. And I know Zach trusts Damon, which means I'm willing to trust him, too."

Elena's expression turned hopeful. "We'll be home on Sunday, so won't miss any school. And we promise we'll have all our homework done before we go. Pretty please say yes, Dad? Please?"

"I can find her and talk her into coming back with us. I know I can!" Jeremy said.

With a sigh, Grayson relented. "You'll check in with me twice a day, Elena? And I want Damon's and Matt's phone numbers, and for the four of you to make sure you keep your phones charged at all times." Turning to Damon, he said, "And hotel and flight information as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. I'll have the details to you tomorrow morning, as soon as I get everything booked."

"See that you do."

Elena pulled her hand from Damon's and stood to go to her father and give him a hug. "Thank you, Daddy. I knew you'd understand."

He patted her back. "You're welcome. Just please don't make me regret it."

"We won't."

All three of them thanked Grayson and wished him goodnight as he got up to get ready for bed. Jeremy disappeared inside his room as well, and Elena walked Damon to the front door.

"Thank you for this," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.

"You're welcome. I can't wait to show you Venice Beach, and the Santa Monica Pier, and the craziness of Hollywood Boulevard. It's gonna be a blast!"

"I thought we were going out there to find Vickie, not to be all touristy?" Elena laughed.

He chuckled, bending his head to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I'm pretty sure we can do both."

* * *

><p>After Damon left, Elena tidied up the living room, then headed to her room change into her pajamas. On her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she noticed a light was still on in her father's bedroom. Impulsively she stepped across the hall and knocked lightly. "Dad? You still up?"<p>

"Yes, c'mon in," she heard him reply.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. He was sitting up in bed with one of his big spiral notebooks balanced across his thighs. Probably going over accounting for the Clutch, she assumed.

Elena sat down on the edge of the mattress and swiveled her body to face him. "I just want to thank you again. It means a lot to me that you trust me enough to let us go."

"I do trust you, honey. You know I do. And it's clear you trust Damon."

"I do. Very much," she admitted.

Grayson broke eye contact to look back down at the pages he'd been studying. He cleared his throat. "Elena, I'm glad you came in to talk to me, because there's something I need to ask you."

"What's that, Daddy?"

He closed the ledger and set it aside. Then he looked up at her, frowning. "Times like these I wish your mom was around to do this. I mean, I _always_ wish she was around, but…this is more of a mother-daughter type of…conversation…thing."

Elena noticed her father's face had flushed. For a moment she was perplexed, but then she suddenly realized just what he was about to ask. Heat flooded her own body, and she knew her cheeks had gone as red as his. "Uh, Dad, you don't have to—"

"Like it or not, I do. Even if I don't _really_ wanna know the answer."

She went still, bracing herself for it.

He drew in a deep breath. "Are you two, um," he started, before pausing to exhale all the air out in a rush, "you know…are you being _careful_? Can you please just assure me of that much?"

Her face grew even hotter, and she dropped her gaze to her fingers, which had scrunched up the blanket under her hand. "I, uh, we, um…" She sighed and nodded. "You don't have to worry, Dad, I swear."

"I'm your father—I can't help worrying no matter how much I trust you. You'll always be my baby girl. But Damon seems like a good guy, and I think this is the happiest I've seen you since your mother passed."

"He _is_ a good guy. And yeah, I'm pretty happy." She couldn't suppress a smile.

"So does this mean you'll be sharing a hotel room with him? Or with your brother?"

Elena mashed her lips together to hold back the giggle that wanted to erupt. Not because her father's question was funny, but because she'd just gotten a mental image of the expressions on Damon's and Matt's faces if she told them they'd have to room together in Los Angeles.

"Um, I have no idea. Does it matter?"

Grayson smiled. "No, I suppose at this point it really doesn't. Just—as I said—be careful. And make sure you keep your grades up. I'd hate for you to lose out on that scholarship you want so bad and screw up your college plans just 'cause you're distracted right now by the throes of young love."

Elena laughed softly. "No need to worry. That isn't going to happen. You know college is my top priority. All my homework will be done before I leave, and if there's any reading left, I'll bring it with me."

"That's my girl." Her father gave her a warm grin.

"As for the young love bit," she added, "that's not an issue, either. As I told you before, we're keeping things casual."

He reached over and patted her hand. "Love isn't a bad thing, Elena. In fact, it's kind of wonderful. You'll know when you're ready to open up your heart and let someone in. I knew it on my first date with your mother."

"You did?"

"Yep. I had no doubt she was the right one for me. I just had to work a little to convince _her_ of that." He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of one hand. "On that note, it's past my bedtime. Sleep well, sweetie."

"Goodnight Daddy."

* * *

><p>Elena lay on her side in her bed with her history reading assignment open on the mattress beside her, but she found she was having great difficulty concentrating on the sociological ramifications of the American Revolution. Her mind kept slipping back to her father's advice about love.<p>

She'd never been in love; she'd read about it in books, seen it portrayed in the movies, heard some of her friends talk about how much they loved their boyfriends—but she'd never experienced it herself. The past few years she hadn't really thought much about things like falling in love, and when she had, she'd assumed it was something for later, when she was older, something that right now would just get in the way and hold her back from her goals. But, much as she was hesitant to admit it, she realized things had changed recently. She had Damon in her life. And even though they'd promised each other that they would only be friends with benefits and that love wouldn't be allowed to complicate things, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to curtail her ever-growing feelings for him.

Being around Damon made her instantly happier. He had the strangest ability to make her forget all her responsibilities and worries, at least temporarily. Not that she ignored her studies when she was with him—far from it. They both made sure she finished her homework before moving on to other, more intimate activities. And after, curled up together in his bed, his warm arms holding her close, her cheek against his bare chest, she always felt this incredible sense of calm and contentment, like she could stay this way, with him, for the rest of her life.

The way he made her feel—it was just so…intense. She knew she cared about Damon more than she'd ever cared about any guy before. If she was being honest, he rarely left her mind these days. Even when she was supposed to be focusing on other things, random memories of the rich tenor his voice when he said her name, or flashes of those mesmerizing blue eyes gazing so intently at her, like he almost always did right after kissing her, would pop into her head. Warmth flooded her body and she shivered, remembering the feeling of his fingers sliding over her naked skin.

Elena swallowed thickly, closing the heavy textbook and putting it aside, her eyes wide as she stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

Was this love? Is this what real love actually felt like?

"Oh my God. It _is_, isn't it?" she exclaimed softly. She squeezed her eyes closed in shock, but the flimsy barriers of her eyelids couldn't block it out, wouldn't let her unknow what she'd just understood.

She groaned. The ramifications of this were bad. Very bad. They'd promised each other that if their feelings intensified, they'd let the other know right away. And this admission, as far as she understood, would mean an immediate end to their fake-couple status. At that thought her chest tightened, her ribcage suddenly two sizes too small to contain her heart.

This was _not_ how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be excited to go off to school on her own in August. She was supposed to be a little sad, sure, but overall okay with saying goodbye to Damon, with letting him go when the time came. Not…not all pathetic and lonely and heartbroken! Her clammy palms clutched at the sheets, her breath now puffing out in shallow little gasps.

_Now_ what was she supposed to do? Did she need to tell him about this change right away? They were going away together in a few days, and she had been looking _so_ forward to it. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to create awkwardness between them and ruin their trip.

Maybe it could wait until they returned home. Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay for now to just kind of…bask in their time together? Enjoy being with him to the fullest before having to admit that her feelings had intensified? Or… maybe she didn't really need to tell him at all?

No, she'd made him a promise, and she intended to keep it. She'd tell him, and she'd just have to put on her big-girl panties and deal with the fallout.

But not until they got back.

* * *

><p>Damon wrenched his eyes open bright and early on Wednesday morning and stumbled half-awake to the bathroom. Once he'd taken care of business, he splashed some cold water on his face, came back and tugged open the thick curtains to let the rising sun's warm glow flood his room. Then he put on his glasses, picked up his computer, and stretched out on his stomach on the bed in front of it, the clicking of his fingertips as they flew over the keyboard the only background noise in the early morning stillness.<p>

When he'd returned home from Elena's last night, he'd jumped online and attempted to book their plane tickets before going to sleep, but to his frustration found that the only flight to L.A. departing Friday morning out of Richmond was already booked solid. This morning he was hoping there'd been overnight cancellations. Otherwise they were going to have to leave a day late or a day early, and he wasn't sure if taking off as soon as tomorrow morning would work for the others.

He checked the Friday flight. _Shit_. Still booked solid. Sighing, he looked at the Saturday morning option. It was sold out, too. With an ever deepening frown, he checked tomorrow morning's departure. There were only nine seats available. And if they wanted to book it, they'd need to reserve four of them.

Damon grabbed his cell phone from the night table and called Elena.

"Hey," she answered. He could hear the smile in her voice. It brought one to his own face just knowing he'd played a part in putting it there.

"Hey, you talk to Matt yet?"

"Yep. He spoke to him mom and says he's good to go."

"Great. But I've already hit a potential snag. The flight to L.A. Friday morning is sold out. So's the one Saturday morning. Tomorrow morning, however, is not, but there are only nine seats left. I need to book our tickets ASAP if you guys are cool with leaving a day earlier than planned."

There was a short pause before she replied, "Well, I'm fine with it, and my brother won't care, but I'll need to check with Matt, Bonnie, and my dad. I'll call you back in a few minutes, okay?"

"No problem."

He hit the End Call button and got up to pull on a sweater. Even with Spring's most welcome warmer temperatures, it was still pretty chilly in the boarding house in the mornings. Instead of taking the time to stoke up the embers in the fireplace, he pocketed his phone and went downstairs to make himself a warming, awakening cup of coffee.

The downstairs of the big house was just as quiet as his floor had been. He could detect neither sign nor sound of his uncle. Zach must have gotten up early himself and gone into town to get food or gas or something. Damon shrugged. He'd likely be back soon enough, and Damon didn't really have the full story to tell him until he heard back from Elena.

Sure enough, just as he was settling into his favorite comfortably worn chair in the library, he felt the familiar vibrations of his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Matt's cool with leaving a day earlier," Elena said immediately. "And Bonnie is fine to take my Thursday night shift, too. Dad frowned his frowniest face, but he couldn't come up with any real reason to not let us go tomorrow. So we're all in."

"Excellent." Damon got to his feet, one hand pressing his phone to his ear, the other clutching his steaming mug, and began to make his way back up the steps to his room. "I'm going to book our tickets right now."

"And the hotel?"

"Yes, that too. Which I'm still not going to name for you, but I'll text you details of everything but that once I've got it all confirmed."

"Okay." She paused.

Damon could almost hear her thinking. "What's up?"

"I'm just trying to make a mental list of all the things I need to get done this afternoon before I go to work. Organizing, packing and getting everything ready. I don't even have a suitcase!"

"Can you maybe borrow one from someone? I can ask Zach if you want."

Elena's voice got quiet as she thought about it. "Hmm, maybe." She paused again, then, louder: "Oh! I just remembered my mom had one. I think it's up in the attic. I'll go dig it out."

"Cool. Pack light—it'll be pretty warm in L.A. this time of year."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. Just bring t-shirts, shorts, a swimsuit, sandals. Wear a hoodie and jeans on the plane, and you won't need to pack any other long sleeves."

"Okay, sounds good. Anything else? Will I need anything dressier?"

"Maybe a skirt or light dress to wear to dinner, but it's not mandatory. I think shorts will be fine anywhere you want to go."

Elena was silent for a few moments. Then: "I can't believe I'm going away with you."

Damon chuckled. "And your brother, and your ex. It's not exactly a romantic vacation for two." _Much as I wish it were_, he thought. He'd already decided he was going to do his best to make it as fun for her as possible.

"So…my dad asked me last night after you left if you and I would be sharing a hotel room."

"Did he?" He laughed out loud. "Oh man. Awkward. What did you say?"

He heard her exhale a rush of air. "I was _totally_ mortified. I just told him I had no idea. At least he let it drop, thank God."

"You think he'd mind if we did?"

She sighed. "My dad's pretty open-minded, and he trusts me to make good choices. I think he's already assumed we…you know."

Damon pressed his lips together, not sure whether he liked the idea that Elena's father thought they were already sleeping together. Even if he was right. "Okay, well…it's great he trusts you so much. Hope he trusts me, too."

"He does."

"I'm glad. So then are you cool with it?"

"With what?"

"Sharing a room with me."

Elena snickered. "I was kind of counting on it."

"Good. Me, too."

"Listen, Damon, I'd better go find Mom's suitcase and start packing. Are you planning to come by the shop tonight?"

"Yep, I can do that. See you later."

"Later." She disconnected.

Twenty minutes later, Damon had booked their flights, hotel rooms—making a request in the system for the two rooms to be on different floors if possible—and last but not least, a rental car.

He texted the flight info to Elena to pass on to her father and Matt, and then grabbed a towel and went downstairs to the gym. There was no point in starting to pack this early; he knew from experience it would only take him about five minutes.

* * *

><p>By the time Elena had carefully squeezed the plethora of items she'd spread all across her bed into her mother's old blue suitcase, it was nearing four-thirty. She snapped the lid shut, ran a brush through her hair, threw on her jacket and hurried out the door.<p>

Ten minutes later she was standing on the sidewalk in front of _The Herald_ looking curiously at the elastic-wrapped stack of letters she'd just picked up from her editor. Across the envelope on the top of the pile she spotted the black crow-scratch writing she'd become all-too familiar with, and her heart-rate sped up a little.

Gilbert's Coffee Clutch was only a short walk down the street, but Elena just couldn't wait to find out what it said. She stopped and leaned against a tree at the corner of Main and Spruce, pulling the envelope out of the pile and shoving the rest of the letters into her knapsack.

She read it through quickly, her smile stretching wider with every sentence. This letter had a different tone from the ones she'd received before, and she could actually feel the hope radiating from JAI's words. He finally seemed to be looking forward to his future again. She couldn't help feeling proud of him for taking the difficult and emotional steps he'd clearly just pushed himself through.

Elena knew she wouldn't have time to craft a reply until later tonight once she was back home and in bed—too many potentially curious eyes would be around her in the meantime—but she had a sudden inspiration of just what she wanted to write. And it made her feel lighter still knowing how honest she planned to be this time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _So sorry for the delay in posting. I was quite sick last month and my muse has been stubborn and mostly absent since. Thank you for your patience, and to all of you who have taken the time to leave me reviews. They often inspire me to get writing again, so they mean a GREAT deal to me! (the very best gift a reader can give to the writers they appreciate, tbh) Extra thanks to someonestolemyshoes and siberia21 for pre-reading and giving me feedback. Love you both._ _Happy Holidays! xo_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

><p>The pinging of Elena's phone alarm wrested her from an uneasy sleep. She woke to a pitch-black room and silent house, presumably because it was five o'clock in the morning. All vestiges of grogginess fell away as she remembered what today was and she bolted upright, shoving the covers off to dart into the hallway and pound on her brother's door.<p>

"Jer! Time to wake up!" she called, her heart racing with excitement.

She turned as her dad's bedroom door creaked open and his head poked out, his face still doughy with sleep. "Morning, sweetie. I'll make sure he gets up. You'd better jump in the shower quick while it's free."

She smiled. "Morning, Daddy. That's a good idea, thanks!"

Thirty minutes later, Elena was clean, dressed, had her hair up in a neat ponytail, toast in her belly, and stood ready at the front door. Her toe tapped out a rapid rhythm against the scuffed linoleum as she watched the street through the small square window. A wide smile broke across her face when she at last spotted Damon's Jeep.

"Jer!" she called. "He's here. C'mon!"

Her brother hurried into the entranceway a few moments later lugging a half-unzipped duffel bag. Just as Jeremy was cramming his feet into his sneakers, Damon knocked on the door.

Elena pulled it open, still grinning. "Good morning! You didn't have to come in. We were just on our way out."

Damon bent down to greet her with a quick kiss. "Morning." His eyes swept over the siblings, taking in Jeremy yanking fruitlessly on his bag's stuck zipper. One of Damon's brows quirked. "So you guys are all ready to go?"

With a sigh, Jeremy gave up on the stubborn zipper. He got to his feet and pulled his jean jacket from the hall closet. "Yep. Let's hit the road."

"Morning, Damon." Grayson emerged from the kitchen, blowing over the top of a steaming mug of coffee. He was already dressed for work. "I trust you've got everything under control?"

"Good morning, sir. Yes," he patted his jacket pocket where Elena presumed their plane tickets were tucked, "we're all set."

Jeremy picked up his duffel and turned to his father, who clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hope you find Vickie, I really do, but even if things don't end up going the way you want, try to have some fun out there."

"I will, Dad."

"One more thing: I know you're almost seventeen, but I want you to promise me you'll listen to your sister. You're still a minor, so she's in charge this weekend. Okay?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Elena stepped forward and gave her dad a big hug. "Thanks again, Daddy. We'll be fine, don't worry. I'll call you as soon as we land."

"See that you do." Grayson's voice sounded a little rough. It would be the first time he'd be alone in the house since before the kids were born, and Elena knew he wouldn't feel right until they were both back home in their own beds.

Damon picked up Elena's suitcase and held the door open for her and her brother. Once their bags were stowed in the back of the Jeep and everyone was buckled in, coffee and hot chocolate-filled travel mugs in each hand, they waved goodbye to Grayson, who was standing on the doorstep, and got on their way.

Thanks to road-work reducing lanes for a good ten miles along the highway, the drive to Richmond took just under two hours. Jeremy had his earbuds in and dozed in the backseat most of the way. Elena, on the other hand, chatted happily, peppering Damon with questions about airports and airplanes and hotels and California. He was more than happy to try to answer as best he could, and it made the commute pass faster. Each time he explained something cool to her, Elena's smile seemed to grow impossibly wider. Her excitement rubbed off on him, and before long his side of their conversation had become as animated as hers.

At last they arrived at Richmond International Airport, found parking, and caught the shuttle bus to the terminal. They didn't have any difficulty finding Matt—he was waiting for them just inside the main doors. A relieved expression crossed his face as soon as he spotted them.

"Finally!" Matt exclaimed, throwing his backpack back over his shoulder. "C'mon, I've already scoped out where we need to be. The check-in line's over here." He pointed to his right.

They went down the hall and joined the end of a long line up for the American Airlines domestic flights counter. After they'd waited for about five minutes, shuffling forward in minute increments, Elena remembered the letter to JAI that she'd tucked inside her purse. She stood on her toes and craned her neck to look around, at last spotting a blue U.S. Post box next to the restrooms along the far wall.

"I need to use the washroom. Be right back," she whispered to Damon, pointing toward her destination. He nodded and took hold of her suitcase handle.

Elena carefully pushed her way through the ever-growing crowd and left the lineup. More and more people seemed to be arriving every minute. She saw babies crying in their mother's arms and overloaded fathers dragging heavy suitcases behind them. In front of her, a couple was arguing loudly over whose fault it was that they'd arrived late and missed their flight. The cacophony of noises surrounding Elena all began to blend into an overarching dull roar as she hurried toward her destination.

Once she reached the post box, she took a quick glance over her shoulder to see if any of her friends were watching her. Matt and Jeremy appeared to be chatting, and Damon's eyes were fixed up on the row of screens displaying continually changing departure information. None of them were looking her way, so she quickly pulled out the envelope and slid it into the box. Before heading back, she slipped inside the ladies' room as she'd stated; it had been a long drive, after all.

When she ducked under the line divider and re-joined the others, who in her absence had made their way around a bend, doubled back, and were finally approaching the counter, Damon casually reached over and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him as he talked to Jeremy about basketball. He didn't even pause in his sentence, and she couldn't help smiling to herself, pleased to feel his fingers against her side through the cotton of her hoodie.

_If only we could always be as comfortable with each other as this_, she thought with a strange sense of yearning as she reflected on her recent revelations about her true feelings, not to mention the probable consequences once she admitted them to Damon.

He didn't appear to notice her sudden melancholy, and excitement overtook her again a short time later once it was finally their turn to approach the check-in counter. The four of them walked up together, but the others stood back and let Damon do most of the talking. Before long they had their seats confirmed, their luggage checked, and their boarding passes in hand.

Next came the line-up for security. Elena sighed softly when she saw all the people waiting in front of them. She was sure this queue was even longer than the one to check in.

"Don't worry," Damon murmured, leaning close. He gestured toward the big digital clock on the far wall. "We won't miss our flight. We've still got plenty of time." His breath tickled her earlobe and she shivered, looking up at him with a small, grateful smile.

It took quite a while to navigate this line, and the general mood of their fellow travelers seemed more of frustration than anticipation, but eventually Elena and her friends made it past the security check with no hassles.

The next forty minutes were spent hanging out in the departure lounge beside their gate. Elena's restlessness grew more obvious; she kept getting up and crossing over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, studying the planes lined up on the tarmac outside, then returning to sit beside Damon for a few more minutes, fidgeting with her magazine, crossing and uncrossing her legs before rising to do it all over again. He seemed amused by her impatience and tried his best to get her to relax, but it was no use. She was far too keyed up right now to focus on anything for very long.

Finally, after what felt like several lifetimes to Elena, boarding for their flight was announced, and they hauled their knapsacks back to their shoulders and got in line once more. After their boarding passes were yet again checked, they joined the rear of the group of people making their way down the gradual slope of the jetbridge and waited their turn to board the aircraft. Elena and Damon found their seats near the back of the cabin, directly behind Matt and Jeremy. Damon insisted she take the one by the window, and he stored their carry-on bags in the overhead compartment before sitting down beside her.

Elena eyes were still darting around, and she flashed him a wobbly smile. She was both excited and nervous at the thought of flying. When the 'Fasten Seatbelts' sign lit up on the ceiling and the flight attendant stood in the aisle and asked for their attention before starting to go over what to do in case of an emergency, she reached for Damon's hand. Then the plane began trundling slowly toward take-off position on the runaway. Elena's heart throbbed in her chest, as loud and relentless as native drums in those old black and white movies she sometimes watched with her dad on Sunday afternoons. She gripped Damon's fingers.

He leaned his head close to hers. "Nervous?" he whispered. She felt his exhalation sway some loose tendrils of her hair which had escaped her ponytail.

"Kind of," Elena admitted, giving his hand another squeeze. She had to remind herself not to hold on to him too tightly.

"The take-off's the worst bit. Then we'll even out and it'll all be fine. You'll be able to see Richmond getting smaller and smaller below us."

Elena gulped, staring at the nubby blue fabric on the back of her brother's seat. People did this all the time; surely it wasn't really all that big of a deal? She could overhear Jeremy and Matt talking excitedly about Los Angeles. Neither of them had ever flown before either, yet they didn't seem to be freaked out at all. She took a few deep breaths and tried to force herself to relax, like they were. But her body was having none of it.

The entire plane started to vibrate. She heard the drone of the engines swell to a low roar as they revved. Elena clutched her armrest with her free fingers and clenched her teeth, her spine rigid against her seat back.

"Okay, this is it. We're about to take off," Damon said softly. He rubbed reassuring circles with his thumb over the back of her hand.

The airplane sped down the runway faster, faster. Elena stared out the window at the blurred buildings and grass and tarmac whipping by, her heart now galloping. She could feel her own pulse throbbing in her throat, her ears. She no longer heard the sounds of the other passengers around her; the only sound was her heart's incessant drumming. _Thump. Thump. Thump_.

Just before true panic set in, before she could leap to her feet and make her escape, the scenery began to tilt as the wheels left the ground. Elena squeezed Damon's hand again, inhaling a sharp breath, inflating her lungs and refusing to let it go. She felt the negative g-force push her body firmly into her seat.

So much for any hope of escape.

"Elena?"

She turned her head to the left just a little, just enough so she could look at Damon. It seemed to take a lot more effort than usual.

"Breathe," he said.

Realizing she had yet to exhale, she let it all out in a long sigh. He smiled at her reassuringly, leaning in to whisper. "You're fine. We're flying. Now please try to relax, okay? We've got a lot of hours to go before we get there. Can't have my girl passing out before we even hit cruising altitude."

A happy grin stretched her lips, and she felt a big ball of tension seep away. Did he just call her his girl? The thought made warmth spread across her chest as she took another deep breath. She liked being Damon's girl. Liked it more than he knew, more than was safe for her own emotional well-being. She turned to look out the window again, distracting herself by marveling at the city falling away from them, growing smaller and smaller as they rose. The cars and trucks were little more than colored dots on the highway below. They didn't even seem real.

Elena spent a good part of the journey with her forehead pressed against the window, watching in awe as the landscape crept by in the distance. The cloud cover came and went, but it broke up enough for her to see the vast Mississippi river, winding like a fat, silver snake through deep green forests and miniature towns. Further on, the Great Plains stretched away, forming tiny yellow and pale green checkerboards as far as her eyes could see. Then came the majestic Rocky Mountains, rising up from the earth. She'd read so much about them in books, seen them on television, but from way up here in the sky they looked like some weird alien moonscape, all jagged dark precipices and snow-covered tips, with dark valleys slashing through their midst. White, thread-like roads zigzagged along the mountainsides. Thick clouds crowning the highest peaks soon obscured everything from view again.

And when they next broke apart enough for Elena to see the ground, her brows drew tight in confusion. In the distance she spotted a huge reddish brown cataract, a wide slashing chasm in the desert, divided only by the glint of a winding river far below.

"What _is_ that?" she asked Damon as they drew closer, pointing out the window and leaning back so he could stretch across her to see. "Is that…?"

He took a look outside, and then turned to meet her eyes with a smile. "That's the Grand Canyon. Pretty amazing from up here, huh?"

"No way!" she gasped.

"Yep."

Elena's voice was tinged with wonder. "Holy cow. I had no idea it was so…"

"Massive?" he laughed, settling back into his seat so she could look back out.

She nodded, pressing her forehead to the window to examine it more carefully. "It looks like a giant crack in the Earth's crust, like the kind of thing you see on those science shows about how the planet was formed. How long is it?"

"Um, about 300 miles I think. Maybe a bit less. I'll Google it for you once we land. My parents took us when we were kids. My brother was too scared to go anywhere near the edge, but I walked right up to the fence with my dad. It was breath-taking. You can't tell from up here, but there are hundreds of different variations of colors in the strata. It's incredibly beautiful."

Turning to look at him, Elena let her back fall against her seat once more. "You're _so_ lucky."

Damon could think of quite a few reasons why he didn't agree, but he kept silent. "Why's that?"

"You've gotten to travel so much. I've never been anywhere." She paused, and then added softly, "At least not before I met you."

"Well, we're in the process of changing that, aren't we? Maybe someday I'll take you to the Grand Canyon. It's only a few hours from Las Vegas. We could make a weekend of it." He chuckled. "Although that'd probably be a lot more fun for you once you're twenty-one."

Elena smiled. She loved to hear him speak of future plans like he thought they might really do these things together. She didn't know why he said stuff like that—stuff that could never actually happen—but it made her heart do little somersaults each time he did. Not that she'd let any real hope blossom. Living in denial was a dangerous indulgence, but just for this weekend she'd decided to allow herself the luxury of pretending they had an actual future together. She wasn't going to deal with reality until they were back in Mystic Falls. Even if it was only delaying the inevitable, she felt she deserved that much.

So she leaned her face close to his and kissed him softly. "I'd love that."

* * *

><p>It took a little over five hours to fly to Los Angeles, as a strong tailwind shortened their flight time by twenty minutes. Much as Damon was enjoying observing Elena's clear delight over the entire experience—once she got past her initial nerves, that is—he felt relief sweep over him when the wheels finally touched the tarmac at LAX. As they disembarked, he reminded the others to adjust the time on their phones back three hours. It was only 12:45 Pacific time, which meant they still had most of the day ahead of them to get settled and begin their search for Vickie.<p>

After an additional forty-five minutes waiting for everyone to collect their luggage from the baggage carousel, they at last made it outside onto the hot, sunny pavement. Scanning the many waiting vehicles pulled up to the curb, it didn't take long for Damon to spot the bright yellow Hertz shuttle bus that would take them to the rental car agency.

Once they were settled onboard, Jeremy pulled his phone from his jacket and announced he was sending Vickie a message to let her know he was in town and wanted to see her. This reminded Elena that she'd promised to check in with her dad as soon as they'd landed, so she gave him a quick call as the bus dodged and swerved its way through the busy airport traffic.

The shuttle jerked to a half in front of the Hertz rental office a few minutes later. Without thinking about it, Damon reached for Elena's hand to help her disembark before he went around back to collect their baggage.

"Wait here," he told them as they walked inside the office, gesturing toward a row of hard plastic chairs before he joined the back of the line of people waiting their turn at the counter.

As Damon shuffled forward, he glanced behind him. Matt was chatting with Elena, while Jeremy paid no attention to them, staring at his phone and tapping away. Damon wondered if he'd heard back from Vickie yet. He hoped this would be easier than he expected it to be. Maybe Vickie would actually be willing to meet up with them and save them all the hassle of trying to track her down and convince her to return with them. But as he knew all too well, life very rarely presented the easy path.

Thankfully, Hertz seemed to be staffed by very efficient agents, and this particular line moved along well. In less than ten minutes, Damon had the keys to a red Toyota Prius in his pocket and was trying with some difficulty to arrange their suitcases so they'd all fit in the rather compact trunk. Matt offered to hold his duffle on his lap, and at last they were on their way to the hotel.

"Check it out," Damon said as they rounded a corner, pointing out the windshield. A block ahead sat a squat flat-roofed building with a gigantic pale brown ring mounted on the roof. "Randy's Donuts!" he exclaimed.

"Whoa!" Elena said, her brows shooting up.

Noticing her incredulous expression, Damon added, "It's a famous LA landmark."

She looked at him with a bemused smile and shrugged. "Never heard of it. Are we stopping there?"

Damon laughed. "Maybe on the way home." He continued driving along West Manchester Boulevard, took a left, then a quick right, and soon they were speeding down Highway 495.

"Vickie just replied," Jeremy suddenly announced from the backseat.

Elena twisted her upper body to peer at him over her shoulder. Before she could speak, Matt cut in. "_And_? What did she say? Did you tell her I'm with you?"

Jeremy tore his eyes from his phone, glancing sideways at Matt with an irritated expression. "No, not yet. I'm trying not to freak her the fuck out. If she knows why we're all here, she might go silent again. She didn't tell me where she was, but said she'd message me tomorrow and maybe we could meet up."

Elena sighed with relief. "Awesome."

"That's a good start," Matt agreed. "But if you think you're gonna go meet her without me, think again."

With a sigh and an eye roll, Jeremy muttered, "Yeah, okay."

Before long, Damon had exited the highway and was working his way through traffic along the famous Sunset Boulevard. He spotted the eye-catching baby blue and white façade of the Paladian Hotel coming up on the right and turned into the curved driveway, pulling smoothly up in front the grand arched entrance.

Elena gasped, her fingers unconsciously reaching for his wrist and squeezing. "_This_ is the place? We're staying _here_?"

Damon just smiled at her and got out of the car to speak with the valet who had walked over to greet them. After unloading their luggage and handing over the keys, he took Elena's hand and led her through the tall glass doors into the lobby, Matt and Jeremy trailing close behind.

As they strode across the gleaming black and white checked tile to the reception desk, Damon shot a glance at Elena from the corner of his eye. He tugged her deftly aside to prevent her walking right into a curved-back mahogany chair; she was so distracted she wasn't watching where she was going. Her neck twisted and turned in every direction as she tried to take in all the details of the elaborate Art Deco lobby.

The Paladian had been built in 1927, two years before the stock market took its most famous free-fall. As such, the hotel was a monument to modern (at the time) palatial excess. A narrow twenty-floor tower rose up above the much wider first and second floor. The main floor and mezzanine housed not only the lobby but the bar, five-star restaurant, and several state of the art meeting rooms.

A massive chandelier hung high above the open center of the lobby. Thousands of dangling cut crystals glinted like diamonds, reflecting multicolored dapples of light down on them from the ornate stained glass windows all around the perimeter of the ceiling above. Damon heard Elena suck in her breath when she noticed.

Grinning to himself, he released her hand and let her ogle, sauntering up to the polished black wood counter. The word RECEPTION was mounted on the wall behind it in large square stainless steel letters. Behind the desk, a pretty blonde greeted him with a bright red-lipsticked smile.

Darting a glance at her name tag pinned over one prominent breast, Damon mirrored her smile right back at her. "Good afternoon, Lydia. I'd like to check in, please."

She looked him over, her ultra-white teeth gleaming. She seemed to like what she saw. "Welcome to the Paladian, Mr.…?"

"Salvatore," Damon told her. "I have reservations for the next three nights."

After clicking away at her keyboard for a moment, Lydia raised her gaze back to him. "Yes, here it is. Was it for two double rooms?"

"One double and one single with a king bed." He looked over his shoulder at Elena. She was sitting on a circular couch upholstered in rich maroon velvet, talking to Jeremy and Matt excitedly. "On different floors if possible," Damon added, turning back and flashing Lydia his most charming grin.

"Everything looks good, Mr. Salvatore. I'll just need to see your credit card, please."

Damon handed over his card, again glancing back at Elena as he waited for the check in to be completed. Once he'd signed and gotten their room keys, he rejoined the others.

"You guys ready? We've got rooms 507 and 701" He handed Matt a key card, picked up both his and Elena's bags, and then indicated toward the elevator bank, which was in the back of the lobby, with one elbow.

Each set of elevator doors had symmetrical swooping arches and fans in shades of gray, taupe and chocolate brown with gold filigree detailing. "Wow," Elena said, gliding her fingertips over the shiny enamel as they waited for a car to descend. "This place is totally beautiful!"

"It's all original Art Deco, from the twenties," Damon told her. He had an urge to reach out and rub the small of her back, but his hands were occupied with their bags. Instead he leaned closer to her ear, whispering, "I _thought_ you might like this place."

"I love it," she said simply, turning to grin happily up at him. For a moment, he thought she was about to kiss him.

"I'm starving," Jeremy interrupted with an eye roll. "You guys think we could go eat soon?"

With a ping, the elevator doors slid open and they stepped onboard. Damon set their bags on the floor and punched the buttons for floors five and seven. They glowed orange on the narrow brass control panel.

Turning to Jeremy and Matt, Damon said, "I want to grab a quick shower and change before we head out. We'll meet you down in the lobby in, uh," he glanced down at his watch, "how about thirty minutes?"

When the doors began to slide open on the fifth floor, Jeremy turned to his sister. "Are you bunking with me or…?" One side of his mouth curved into a knowing half-grin

Elena's face flushed vivid red. "Um…" Her forehead creased as her eyes darted, panic-stricken, to Damon for help.

Jeremy laughed. "Don't freak out, 'Lena. I'm just having a little fun with ya. C'mon Matt. We'll see you guys downstairs in a bit."

Matt and Jeremy disembarked, both still chuckling, leaving Damon and Elena to continue up to the seventh floor.

Before Damon could grab it, Elena picked her mom's suitcase up and stepped out into the hallway. "Which room are we in again?"

"701." Damon took a quick look around before pointing left down the hall. "This way."

He came to a halt at the end of the red-carpeted hallway and slid his key card into the slot in the door. Pushing it open with one arm, he braced it for Elena to pass in front of him.

The room had a geometric-patterned parquet floor, with plush dark brown rugs at the entrance and in the space between the two queen-sized beds. Damon's brows drew together when he spotted the beds.

"Dammit," he sighed, "I specifically requested one king." Dropping his duffle bag to the floor, he strode over and dropped onto the edge of one white and gold bedspread, reaching for the black retro-style phone on the nightstand. "Sorry. I'll have to call Reception and get our room switched."

"Don't."

He looked up at Elena in surprise, the hand holding the telephone receiver pausing midway to his ear.

"This room is amazing, Damon. I don't want to move. So what if we have an extra bed." She laughed, tossing her suitcase into the middle of it. "We can spread out our stuff out on it, and steal the pillows if we need extra."

Elena's happy expression and carefree laughter brought a smile to his own face. He replaced the receiver and walked over to her, bracing his hands on the sides of her hips. Looking down into those amazing big brown eyes, he said, "You sure? I just want this to be perfect for you."

She stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. "It _is_ perfect. I've never stayed in a hotel before, and this one you picked is amazing." She giggled again. "I already said 'amazing', didn't I?"

Damon nodded, dropping another kiss onto the tip of her nose. "I'm glad you like it." He turned around and pulled off his t-shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the same bed where she'd thrown her suitcase. When he turned back to her, he caught her staring at his chest. A smirk curved one side of his lips; he recognized that look in her eyes. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he moved close to her again. "I'm jumping into the shower to wash all the travel-grime off me." With a waggle of his eyebrows, he added, "Care to join me?"

Another adorable flush spread over Elena's face. "Uh…um…" Cleary that idea had taken her by surprise. "I think I'm okay for now," she mumbled, turning her back to him and starting to unzip her suitcase.

"Suit yourself," he said. "There's a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, so maybe we can try that out later."

She whirled around, excitement once more overtaking her. "There is?"

Before he could reply, she'd raced to the bathroom to check it out. "Holy cow! Damon, this bathroom is more than twice the size of ours at home! That tub is massive! And is that shower curtain real velvet?"

He walked in after her to find her rubbing the black and white shower curtain between two fingers, an astonished expression on her face. Her reactions to everything made him feel all warm and tingly inside. He kept trying to think of new ways to surprise her, please her, to be the source of that delight on her face, over and over again. Every time she smiled, a wave of immense pleasure shot through him.

Damon's gaze landed on the fancy miniature toiletries on a silver tray beside the sink. "See those?" He tilted his chin in their direction.

Elena's attention shifted to the little bottles and wrapped packages. She picked them up one by one, reading the packaging out loud. "Luxurious Oleander shampoo, Intense Moisturizing conditioner, Invigorating Oleander shower gel, Nourishing Oleander body lotion, French-milled bath bar, face bar, shower cap. Oh my God—there's even a little sewing kit and shoe polish!"

"You can keep all that stuff," Damon told her. "The cleaning staff will just replace it every day, anyway. Take whatever you want."

He turned on the water in the shower and unzipped his fly, glancing over his shoulder as he heard the door close. She'd gone back out to the main room, obviously to give him privacy. He was slightly disappointed, but with one glance at the tub, he began thinking of ways they could enjoy it together later, when they weren't in any hurry.

Of course, such thoughts during his shower kept his mind decidedly distracted, and when he emerged from the bathroom several minutes later wearing nothing but a fluffy black towel, he was pleased to note they still had nearly fifteen minutes before they needed to head down to the lobby.

Elena was lying across the closest bed, flipping through the Guide to Los Angeles that the hotel provided in each room. She still wore her jeans and t-shirt, although her purple hoodie was now draped over a chair.

"You haven't changed yet," he observed, stretching out across the bed beside her and giving her a lazy smile.

She set the binder on the side table and looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. "Neither have you."

"True." Damon reached for the hem of her t-shirt and began to fiddle with it. "Guess you'd better take this off then." He tugged the top up over her head, exposing her beige bra. It was utilitarian, nothing fancy, but the sight of all that creamy flesh surrounding it, not to mention her hard little nipples poking against the cotton, made his dick even harder than it had been when he'd stepped into the room. With a wicked smile, he lowered his mouth to one fabric-covered peak.

"Damon!" she gasped. "We don't have time to..."

He lifted his face to look her in the eyes. "Trust your teacher, Elena," he smirked. "This lesson is what's known as a 'quickie.'"

* * *

><p>Elena's cheeks were flushed and her hair was still a bit disheveled as she hurried across the lobby toward Jeremy and Matt, who sat waiting for them in matching red curved-back chairs near the big front windows. Damon trailed a few feet behind her.<p>

Jeremy took one look at them and snorted, shaking his head. "_Really_?" he hissed to his sister. "You two couldn't wait a few more hours?"

Her face grew even hotter. Leave it to her brother to notice and mention anything he thought would make her uncomfortable. "What? We're here. C'mon, let's go eat."

She heard Damon chuckle behind her, but he didn't say anything, just slid his fingers through hers and tugged her toward the entrance as the guys got up to follow.

Damon hailed them a cab, and without hesitation asked that they be taken to Hollywood Boulevard. He got in the front with the driver, leaving the others to squeeze into the back. It was a compact car, and the backseat was cramped with all three of them vying for space. Elena was sandwiched between Matt and Jeremy. Though their shoulders were touching, she couldn't help noticing that Matt seemed to be avoiding her gaze. When she tried to make small talk, he answered with mostly monosyllabic grunts. Elena frowned, wondering if he was upset with her, although she knew more than likely he was just mired in worry over his sister.

Once out of the taxi, they made their way along the tourist-infested sidewalk for a while before Damon indicated a place they should stop. He'd spotted a 1950's style diner that seemed slightly less crowded than the other eateries they'd passed along this block. It was early afternoon, but their bodies were still on East Coast time and their stomachs were grumbling.

After appeasing their hunger, they walked around, checking out the Walk of Fame, the famous hand and footprints in the cement in front of Mann's Chinese Theatre, and the Hollywood and Highland Center, a huge complex containing a shopping mall, restaurants, nightclubs and the Dolby Theatre where the Academy Awards were held. Jeremy kept checking his phone, but he got no further communications from Vickie. To Elena's relief, Matt's reticence improved a little once he had food in his belly, but he still looked like he could think of a dozen places he'd rather be. She tried not to worry about it; if Matt had issues with her dating Damon, it was Matt's problem, not hers.

She and Damon held hands most of the time while they walked, and he kept shooting her little smiles that made her suspect he was enjoying himself just as much as she was.

Once they left the complex and were once more out on the sidewalk, standing between a guy dressed as Spiderman and a woman dressed as Elsa from the movie 'Frozen', Matt turned to Damon and Elena. "You know, with the time change and all, I'm actually pretty beat. You guys mind if Jer and I just head back to the hotel? We can meet up with you for breakfast tomorrow morning or whatever."

Damon nodded. "Sure, that's cool."

"Text me when you get back so I know you got there safely," Elena told Jeremy. "And let me know if you hear from Vickie, of course."

The boys agreed. A row of cabs were lined up along the curb waiting for tourists, so they jumped into the one at the front of the queue, waving goodbye.

As Elena watched their taxi speed off, she felt Damon's hand on the small of her back. "So now what do you want to do?" he asked, his lips again close by her ear. Once again she shivered. Even though it had been over a month since they'd first hooked up, her body still reacted to him like a jolt of electricity passed between them each time he was near.

She turned to face him, looking up into those crystal clear blue eyes, studying him, trying to see what lay beneath the calm surface. The words 'I love you' rose unbidden to her lips, but she forced them back down. She did love him; there was no question of it now. She knew it was going to be excruciating when the time came to confess it, and he inevitably told her they needed to put a stop to all this.

So instead, she slid her arms around his waist, rose on her toes and kissed him. She would enjoy this weekend with Damon with everything in her, and face whatever the future held once her feet were firmly back on the soil of Mystic Falls.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Yes, I know this update took a while. I'm so sorry. I feel very guilty about making you guys wait so long. It's an extra long chapter, so hope you can forgive me. My muse with this story is still being elusive, but I hope I can force her back into motivation soon, as there are only 5 more chapters to go. Thanks to siberia21 who pre-read this for me and thanks to all of you who take that extra minute or to to leave me a review. Your reviews means the world to me. Happy New Year! _


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

><p>Sunlight sliced into the room through the long vertical slit where the heavy drapes came together and created a glowing stripe across Elena's face, rousing her. She squinted into the glare, rolling over in Damon's sleeping embrace to try to re-find her sweet spot, but it was no use—her bladder insisted she rise. Groaning softly, she pushed back the blankets and stumbled half-awake to the bathroom.<p>

The previous evening had been possibly the best night of her entire young life. After Jeremy and Matt headed back to the hotel, Damon had taken her out to dinner at a little Thai restaurant further down Hollywood Boulevard. She'd never eaten Thai food before and had no idea what even to choose, but he'd ordered for both of them, and they'd shared some delicious—if rather spicy—dishes. Later, as they were walking down the sidewalk afterward, she'd pointed out a poster for a movie she'd been curious about. Next thing she knew, Damon had spun them around and taken her back to the world famous Mann's Chinese Theatre, insisting that they should see it. Armed with a massive box of popcorn, they'd settled down into plush red velvet seats, and, once the popcorn had been demolished, he had held her hand for the entire rest of the movie. Elena'd had difficulty concentrating on the action on the screen; all her thoughts were wrapped up in the man beside her and what she might have to look forward to, not only when they got back to the hotel, but for the entire rest of the weekend.

And she had not been disappointed.

The minute they'd stepped inside their room, Damon headed straight into the bathroom and turned on the water to fill the large Jacuzzi tub. A few minutes later, as she'd sat on the bed typing a text to her dad to assure him they were all healthy, happy and having a good time, he called out to her.

"Ooooh Elena?" She looked up and heard water splashing. "This would be a lot more fun if you actually joined me." He stretched out the word _joined_ in a sing-song way, bringing a grin to her face.

"Coming!" she said, getting to her feet and going over to the closet to pull open the door. Hanging inside were the two fluffy white robes she'd spotted earlier. Elena quickly stripped off her clothes and slipped into the smaller of the two. The fabric was the fuzziest, softest cotton she had ever felt against her skin. Her old threadbare robe back home seemed like it was made from sandpaper compared to this.

Steam was already billowing from the partially ajar bathroom door, and as she pushed it open, a hazy cloud enveloped her. Biting her lower lip, Elena slid the robe from her shoulders and hung it on a hook on the back of the door before turning toward the foam-filled tub.

Damon's eyes drank her in as she approached, one of his muscled arms resting along the edge of the gleaming white porcelain. Flicking suds at her from the tips of his fingers, he said, "Just to warn you—it's hot."

Elena felt her cheeks redden—a reaction that always, _always_, seemed to happen when either of them was naked or nearly naked around the other. The water sloshed again as he moved over, and she gingerly stepped in and sunk down into the foam beside him.

When she was fully submerged to her chin beneath a thick layer of bubbles, the solidness of his left leg pressed against the side of hers, she met his eyes and smiled. "I've never had a bath with anyone before." She snorted. "Well, other than Jer when we were little…but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count."

"Yeah, sharing a tub with little brothers as kids is definitely _not_ the same," he smirked, sitting up a little. Reaching for the soap in the stainless steel dish hanging off the side of the tub, he said, "Turn around.

Elena carefully shifted her body so she was sitting between his legs with her back to him. His warm, soapy hands slid up her back to cup her shoulders, and she shivered again.

"You can't possibly be chilly?" he wondered.

"No…I'm just…no."

Damon had chuckled softly and continued to run his fingers over her skin.

Smiling to herself as she washed her hands in the marble sink, Elena remembered how he'd oh-so-gently and carefully soaped her upper back and arms, and how she'd turned around to return the favor. He hadn't let her get very far before pulling her into a deep kiss. And not many minutes later, they'd abandoned the foam-filled tub for the bathroom counter…and then the bed. It had been well after midnight before they'd finally fallen asleep curled up in an exhausted, yet blissful tangle of sheets and limbs.

She wore a sleepy smile as she padded back to the bed and slipped in beside Damon again. He rolled over to face her, his eyelashes fluttering open and his lips curving into a matching smile when he locked eyes with hers.

"Morning," he whispered, leaning over to greet her with a kiss. His stubble scratched against Elena's chin, just as it had that other morning they'd woken up together so many weeks before. She found she didn't mind at all, in fact it was kind of…

The telephone on the nightstand began to ring. With a groan, Damon flung an arm behind him and dragged the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he grunted, not bothering to try to hide his annoyance. After listening for a few seconds, he pushed it across the pillow toward Elena, whispering, "It's your bro."

Elena took the phone from him with a small sigh. "Morning, Jer." Her tone was only slightly more chipper than Damon's had been.

Jeremy didn't waste a single breath on greetings. "I got another message from Vickie. She wants me to meet her at the entrance to the Santa Monica Pier at noon."

"That's great!" Elena leaned her upper body over until she could see the clock. "It's just past nine, so we still have lots of time. Wanna meet us downstairs for breakfast in, say, half an hour?"

There was a pause, during which she heard her brother and Matt muttering in the background.

"We just woke up. Give us forty-five." Without waiting to find out if she agreed, he hung up.

Elena handed the receiver back to Damon and explained that they needed to head to the pier by twelve o'clock.

"Excellent. I wanted to take you down to the beach today, anyway." He pulled her toward him and kissed her again. "Hmm. Forty-five minutes, huh? That gives us plenty of time…"

Elena laughed softly. "Plenty of time for what?"

"This," he smirked. Then he dove under the blankets and tugged them up over top of both of them.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, the four of them piled back into the rented Prius and made their way west down to Santa Monica and the beach. It was a bright, beautiful sunny day—typical LA weather, according to Damon. Elena was glad she'd had the forethought to shove her only pair of sunglasses into her bag before she'd left home.<p>

She stared at their surroundings outside the window, grateful she was once again in the passenger seat beside Damon, and no longer squished in the back between her brother and Matt. She was sure she wasn't just imaging that Matt was still acting kind of weird. He wasn't ignoring her exactly, but…he definitely seemed a bit standoffish. He was quiet and withdrawn, and when he did speak it was mostly to Jeremy, limiting all conversation with Damon and herself to only the most pressing topic: finding Vickie. Elena tried not to be bothered by it, but she had to admit that it stung a little, although not enough to put a damper on her high spirits. She felt happier than she'd been in years. Some of this was definitely due to the excitement of this trip, but she knew the vast majority of her cheerfulness had everything to do with Damon.

As it was a weekday, the beach wasn't yet swarming with people, and Damon found a parking spot not far from the famous Santa Monica Pier. Elena's eyes flew wide when she stepped out of the car and took it all in. The entire pier seemed to be covered by a carnival midway: huge roller coaster, loud colorful stands and smaller rides, and the crowning grace—a massive Ferris wheel so tall she was sure you could probably see the entire city of Los Angeles from the top.

"Whoa," she exhaled.

"You're not scared of heights, are you?" Damon asked, coming over to stand beside her as they both looked up at the rides along the pier..

Elena glanced up at him, smiling. "Nope. You wanna go on that Ferris wheel?"

"Absolutely." Damon turned to Jeremy. "So where did Vickie say to meet her?"

Scanning his phone again, Jeremy replied, "She just said by the entrance." He raised his eyes and glanced around. "Where do ya think she means?"

Damon pointed at the blue and white arched sign at the front of the pier. It read:

_SANTA MONICA  
>* YACHT HARBOR *<br>SPORT FISHING * BOATING  
>Cafes<em>

"Probably under that."

They walked over to the sign and stopped once they were below it. Seagulls screamed at each other as they dueled over scraps down on the sand below.

"It's only eleven-fifteen," Elena said, glancing at her phone. "Why don't we split up for a bit? Jer and Matt can come back at twelve and find Vickie, and we'll meet you guys back here in about an hour. Sound good?"

"Works for me," Damon said, flashing her a grin as he slid an arm around her waist.

Jeremy agreed. "Yeah, I'm cool with that. See you guys below this sign in an hour or so then."

Matt just nodded, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses as they parted ways in opposite directions.

"Matt doesn't like me much," Damon observed quietly once they were out of earshot. He reached for Elena's hand and gave it a squeeze, smiling to show her he wasn't all that concerned about it.

Elena's eyebrows shot up. "That's not true! He's very appreciative of you flying us all out here to look for his sister. I know he is."

Damon chuckled. "That's not what I meant and you know it. I've seen the worried glances you've been giving him ever since we arrived. And I've also noticed how aloof he's being with you. You're not used to him giving you the cold shoulder, are you?"

Elena felt blood rush to her face, and she broke eye contact to gaze over at the waves crashing rhythmically against the sand.

"I guess not," she finally mumbled. "But I sort of understand why he's, y'know, sorta weirded out being around us."

"Yeah, I get that, too. But it bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Kind of," Elena admitted.

Damon was silent for a few moments as they resumed walking along the boardwalk parallel to the ocean. Then he said, "You think we should maybe cut down on the PDA around him?"

Darting her eyes to meet his, she said, "Oh! Um, no. No. I'm fine with…with how we are. He'll get over it."

"Good." Damon's lips curved into a soft smile.

"Good?"

"Good." He stopped again and put his arms around her, bending his head to kiss her. "Because I really don't want to."

Elena pressed her body to his and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "Me neither," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the crashing waves.

* * *

><p>When they returned to the pier, Matt and Jeremy were standing below the arched sign, both on their phones. There was no sign of Vickie.<p>

"You hear anything from her?" Elena asked hesitantly.

Jeremy was leaning against one of the support posts. He glanced up at the sound of his sister's voice. "Nope," he replied.

"Well it's only twenty past. She's probably just running late."

"Yeah. Maybe," Matt said. He looked discouraged. "We'll see."

They all stood awkwardly under the sign, Matt and Jeremy still religiously checking their phones every few seconds while Damon and Elena watched them in concerned silence. They stood a few feet apart, not touching, although she didn't know if that was a deliberate choice on Damon's part or not.

Ten more minutes went by. Elena stepped closer to her brother and said, "You texting her again?"

"Duh," Jeremy replied irritably. "What else would I be doing? She's not answering. Yet."

Elena frowned, but said nothing else.

The four of them waited there, shuffling from foot to foot and growing more and more frustrated. At last Damon spoke up, "C'mon guys. She's clearly not gonna show, and we're wasting a beautiful sunny day at the beach standing here waiting for her. Let's go grab some food from one of those booths on the pier and try to have some fun. I'm sure Jeremy will hear from her soon, all apologetic, and you can arrange another time to meet."

Matt and Jeremy glanced at each other, then back at Damon and Elena.

"Actually," Matt said, "I think we're gonna try to track down my wayward father. I looked up the address of one of his buddies out here this morning. We'll take the bus and meet you guys back at the hotel later."

Elena automatically opened her mouth to protest. She was responsible for her brother during this trip; she couldn't just let him go off roaming the city without her. But before she could get the words out, Jeremy held up his hand palm forward to silence her.

"I know what you're gonna say, sis. But I'm fine. _We're_ fine. Matt and I'll stay together, and we'll text you if we find out anything. And if by some chance we get lost, we'll just call a cab to take us back to the hotel."

Damon reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Withdrawing several twenties, he handed them to Matt. "This should take care of your lunch and cab fare. Skip the bus. It's easier—not to mention safer—just to cab it."

"Damon, no," Elena protested. "We should go with them."

"And what would that really accomplish, other than to ease your worry? They don't need us for this, Elena. Matt's a responsible adult. Let the guys go play detective. We all have phones, so they can reach us anytime they need to."

She bit her lower lip, darting her eyes to each of them in turn. Finally she sighed. "Okay. Jer, promise you'll check in with me at least once an hour?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes at her for what she felt had to be at least the twentieth time today. "Jesus, Elena. You're not my goddamn mother, you know."

_Ouch_, she thought, cringing. Even though she'd tried her best to fill the hole losing their mother had left over the past two years, she knew he was right. And she had to admit, he was smart and fairly mature for seventeen. Of course her dad probably wouldn't approve of them separating even for just a few hours—but maybe this was one little adventure he didn't need to know about.

Bracing her hands on her hips, she attempted to look strict. "Dad told you you had to listen to me, remember?"

The exasperated look Jeremy shot her almost made her wince again, but she managed to hold her stern expression.

With yet another eye-roll, he spat, "Fine. I'll text ya."

"Great." Elena forced a wide smile. "We'll see you guys back at the hotel this evening, if we don't have any need to meet up sooner."

Jeremy pulled the brim of his baseball cap lower over his forehead and stalked away toward the road. With a snort and a shake of his head, Matt glanced at Elena, said he'd see them later, and then hurried after her brother.

Elena turned to Damon. Her brow was creased with concern.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine," Damon reassured her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her against his side. "You're so parental with him. It's kinda cute, although he clearly hates it." He grinned. "You'll make a great mom someday."

Her eyes flew wide. That was quite possibly the last thing she'd expected him to say. "You think?"

He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sure of it."

With a smile, she twisted her head to look up at him. "Now what? Want to go on some rides?"

"I think we should save that until the sun is starting to set. The Santa Monica Pier gets all lit up at sunset. It gets more crowded then, but in my opinion, it's worth waiting for."

"So what would you like to do between now and then? And can it include swimming in the ocean?"

He tilted his head and looked up at the cloudless blue sky as if he was thinking hard about it. "Hmm. I think that can be arranged. Let's take a walk down the beach toward Venice, and see if we can find a good place to get some lunch. Then a swim."

"I thought you weren't supposed to go swimming right after eating?" Elena laughed.

With a wink, Damon said, "That's just an old wives' tale. You're welcome to sit on the sand and stay dry if you like, but I intend to jump into those waves first chance I get."

They continued walking along the boardwalk, this time heading in the opposite as before. For almost half an hour they strolled hand in hand, the beach-side scenery changing over from hotels and expensive-looking ocean-front condos to brightly colored shops with their wares spread on tables on the sidewalk and loud music blasting from the windows.

"This is Venice Beach," Damon said, indicating the much busier beach area they were now in.

Before Elena could answer, he pulled her aside as two teenage boys on skateboards came whizzing by. Although she was shocked, instead of being annoyed, she laughed. "Guess I need to pay more attention to what's in front of me instead of just staring at the stuff we're passing."

"Why don't we get off the boardwalk for a bit? We could head over there and get something to eat?" Damon said, indicating a row of stalls with vendors selling every type of food you could imagine. The intoxicating aromas of sizzling meat and vegetables mixed with exotic spices filled her nostrils, and her stomach rumbled in eager anticipation.

"Best idea yet," she said.

After they'd eaten, they changed into their swimsuits at the changing station on the beach, dumped their stuff into a pile on the sand and, hand in hand, ran laughing into the surf. Elena had taken swimming lessons as a kid at the local community pool with her brother, so although she wasn't a strong swimmer, she certainly wasn't afraid of the water. They splashed and played in the waves until both were panting and covered in goose bumps. Once Damon realized Elena's narrow body was shaking with chills, he insisted they both go ashore and dry off.

The sun beat down, glowing hot against her skin and quickly warming her—it was exactly like Elena had imagined a stereotypical Californian day at the beach. She reached into her bag and pulled out her bottle of sunscreen, purchased at the airport when they'd landed as her old bottle at home had been well past its expiry date. She rubbed the creamy white lotion all down her legs and up each arm. It smelled of coconut, and brought to mind childhood memories of ice cream cones with her mom and Jeremy at the corner store.

As she began to massage another dollop into her shoulders, she felt Damon's fingers on her arm. "Let me do that for you," he said, taking the sunscreen bottle from her. His strong hands glided over her skin; they were warm and firm and just the feel of him touching her brought back vivid memories which chased away any lingering chill.

They relaxed on the beach, chatting and dozing intermittently, for nearly an hour, but eventually not only was Elena feeling overheated, she was getting restless. She'd never been the kind of girl to just sunbath for hours on end; she'd rather be up and about doing things. At her urging, they changed back into their clothes and reversed direction, strolling back toward the Santa Monica Pier.

Only a few blocks away from the Pier, Elena suddenly realized she hadn't heard a peep from her brother or Matt yet. She paused in the shade of a copse of palm trees and pulled out her phone in curiosity. She found no texts waiting from Jeremy, but that didn't really surprise her.

She typed: _Did you hear anything from Vick yet?_

A few minutes later, her brother replied: _No. But we now have an address to follow up._

Elena relayed this info to Damon, who asked where it was. She texted his question, and got a quick reply: _247 Bianca Cres. Why?_

Damon leaned over so he could read her phone. Then he pulled out his own and plugged in the address. He frowned. "Shit. That's a pretty sketchy part of town, and it'll be sundown soon. Tell him not to go right now." He paused, then added, "Say I'll drive us there in the morning."

With a sigh, Elena tapped out the message. "I'd rather they didn't go running around the city alone anyway. Dad'd kill me if he knew I'd let Jer go off without us. We have to stay with him tomorrow, Damon. I feel guilty enough about today."

Damon slid his arm around her shoulder. "They're fine. Tell them to head back to the hotel and we'll meet them there in a couple hours."

"A couple hours? Why?"

"I still haven't taken you on the Ferris Wheel yet. And once they're back at the hotel, they'll probably gorge themselves at the restaurant and end up playing _World of Warcraft_ in their room all night. Nothing to worry about."

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated his words. "I guess you're right."

"I usually am," he chuckled, bending down and kissing her still-pursed lips.

This elicited a small smile, which had been his goal all along.

* * *

><p>The view from the top of the Ferris wheel as the setting sun blazed ombre layers of purple, pink and orange across both the sky and its mirrored reflection in the ocean was possibly the most beautiful thing Elena had ever seen. But no matter how stunning the vista was, she found herself unable to enjoy it fully' she was far too wrapped up in thoughts of the man in whose arms she was now cuddled.<p>

Her intense feelings for him played on an endless loop through her mind. Not just _how_ she felt, but how he _made_ her feel. And that it would all too soon be coming to an end. It was that terrifying thought that distracted her most from the magnificent sunset—Elena wanted to spend every last second of this last weekend with Damon focused on him, on them together.

So instead of spending the entire time on the Ferris wheel looking around and admiring the view, she kept turning back to him. She nuzzled her nose into his neck and planted soft kisses along his jawline, eliciting a low groan from Damon. The sound he made sent shivers up her spine and she grew even more adventurous; snuggling closer, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

When they broke apart, Elena found herself caught in his gaze as he stared at her, the fingers of one hand running gently down her cheek. His expression was intense, yet soft at the same time. She's never had any guy look at her like that in her entire life, and just for a moment she wondered if he might possibly feel for her the same way she felt about him.

_If only_, Elena thought. _If only he loved me, too, then maybe we could figure out some way to make this—us—work._ She sighed, soft and nearly inaudible, and quickly kissed him again so he wouldn't glimpse the sadness she felt sure was in her eyes.

A few minutes later, as they watched the sun flare its dying bright orange breath before gaudily extinguishing itself into the Pacific, she laced her fingers through Damon's and made a wish—a futile, childish wish, but an honest one just the same.

Elena wished with everything in her that this weekend never had to end.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _Sorry again for the late update. Life has been hectic lately. Between a grave illness in the family, and a very stubborn muse that just doesn't want to co-operate, writing chapters has been slow work for me. But thank you so much to those of you who have been patient and stuck around! Extra huge thanks to those who have take the time to leave me reviews. It's so easy-you just tell me what you think in the little box below, even if it's just something simple. Each one makes my day, I swear! I hope the next chapter comes out of my head much easier (and faster) and hope you all have a fabulous weekend. xo_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

><p>A loud rapping at the hotel room door jolted Damon from an uneasy sleep. With a soft sigh, he sat up. He'd been dreaming of Stefan and Katherine's betrayal again—a dream that not so long ago plagued him almost every night, but over the past month or so had barely made an appearance. As he looked down at the disheveled long brown hair and sun-kissed cheek of the sleeping girl beside him, he smiled, figuring he had a pretty good idea why the reoccurring nightmare had at last abated. He couldn't help wondering why it had resurfaced to torment him last night.<p>

Running his fingers through his hair, he retrieved the fluffy white bathrobe from the floor that he'd hastily discarded the previous evening, and shuffled over to answer the door.

It was Jeremy. He looked pale, with dark circles shadowing his eyes. Clearly the boy hadn't gotten much sleep.

At the sight of Damon, Jeremy frowned. "Where's Elena? You guys not up yet?"

Damon snorted, rolling his eyes. "What was your first clue? Your sister's still out, so maybe try to keep your voice down."

"Well, time for her to wake up then." Jeremy pushed past Damon into the entranceway, causing Damon to quickly move to block Jeremy's view of the bed in case Elena wasn't decent.

"Lena! Get your lazy ass outta bed! We need to go get Vickie," Jeremy called around him.

Hearing a muffled yawn from behind, Damon looked over his shoulder to see Elena sitting up and dragging on the matching robe to his own.

"I'm up," she said, her voice full of that just-awoke roughness. Damon couldn't resist a smirk; she sounded sexy as hell. He hoped her brother would state his business quickly and then get the hell out of their room so he could drag Elena back into bed for another half-hour or so.

Jeremy stepped around Damon to face her. "Good."

"What's the big hurry?" Elena asked, stifling another yawn with the back of her hand.

Squaring his jaw, Jeremy replied, "Get dressed. We need to get going. Damon said he'd drive."

With a sigh, she relented, "Fine. We'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes. But our first stop had better be a drive-through."

"Whatever." With that, Jeremy walked out, leaving the door wide open to drift slowly closed.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later, stomachs full of greasy take-out breakfast, they pulled up alongside the curb in front of a shabby red-brick three-storey apartment building. The lawn—if you could call it a lawn—was mostly comprised of tall weeds and crab-grass, pock-marked here and there by bare dirt patches. Even the broken bits of wood, rusty bicycle parts, and garbage strewn about couldn't hide the fact that it hadn't had even the most basic tending in a very long time. If ever.<p>

Elena frowned as she scanned the property. There was no sign of life, not even a barking dog or stalking cat. "You sure this is the right place?" she asked, swiveling in her seat to regard Matt and Jeremy doubtfully.

Her brother gave her a grim nod. "It's the address she gave me."

Matt and Jeremy jumped from the car. Elena swung open her door to join them, but before she could step out, Matt turned back to her and held up a hand. "You two better wait here. We won't be long."

Elena darted her eyes worriedly to Damon. He frowned, but then nodded, so she waved the boys on. "Text or call if you want us to come in," she told them as they strode up the overgrown remains of the asphalt walkway to the crumbling front steps.

Jeremy glanced back at her and both boys seemed to be chuckling as they dragged open the front door. The glass set into it was spider webbed with cracks and so discolored they disappeared from view the moment it swung shut behind them.

Elena pulled her door back closed and locked it. She knew it was stupid, but something about the action of locking it in this part of town made her feel a little bit safer. She sat with Damon, trying to disguise her anxiety by listening to the radio and chatting quietly about _The Great Gatsby_, but she grew ever more worried as each additional minute crept by without the guys reappearing. Damon kept telling her to relax, but this morning his assurances didn't help much. She was fidgety and on edge, staring out the window at the grubby front door as if willing them to come out with her mind.

Twenty-five minutes later, the door finally opened, and Elena breathed a sigh of relief to see Jeremy and Matt emerge from the building. Vickie was not with them. Elena squinted, trying to read their expressions as they walked to the curb. "Well?" she asked the moment they climbed into the backseat.

Matt smiled, the first genuine grin she'd seen on his face in a long time. "We saw her. I think she's gonna agree to fly home with us tomorrow."

The weight that had been sitting in the pit of Elena's stomach vanished, and she shot up in her seat with wide eyes. "Awesome! What did she say? And why didn't she come out with you now?"

With a shrug, Matt replied, "She wants to talk to Dad first, says he's coming back tonight. I gave her my cell phone so she can reach us." His smile had fallen away, but he still looked hopeful.

"The place was a total dump," Jeremy cut in. "Probably infested with roaches and rats." He shuddered, looking back at the apartment building with revulsion. "She needs to get outta there. We're coming back to get her tomorrow morning either way, aren't we, Matt?"

Matt's lips flattened to a tight line as he nodded. Elena raised her eyebrows at the 'either way' comment, but chose not to question him on it. Hopefully one of them would hear from Vickie, and when they returned tomorrow it would be to pick her up willingly, not to attempt to force her into agreeing to come home with them.

"How did she look?" Elena asked instead.

Jeremy and Matt glanced at each other.

"She seemed glad to see us," Matt said, his face still solemn, "and I think she _was_, but I also think she was kinda…faking it. Her good mood, I mean. I could tell she wasn't happy—not with Dad, not with living in that place, not with anything, really. I think she'll probably go home with us even if he tries to talk her into staying." Matt paused, and then added, "Which he'd better not."

"I hope not," Elena agreed. She turned in her seat to face the window again. Damon had kept his opinions to himself so far. He turned to her and caught her eye, quirking a brow. When she nodded that she was ready to go, he started the engine.

* * *

><p>As they were making their along a busy boulevard heading back toward their hotel, Elena's stomach rumbled audibly. Damon glanced her way with a half-smile. "Hungry?"<p>

"I am," Jeremy interjected before his sister could reply.

Matt piped up. "Me, too."

"Okay," Damon said, "what do you guys want to eat, then?"

"Anything is fine," Elena replied. Then her eyes fell on a statue of a huge cartoon taco on top of a building they were passing, and her belly gurgled again. She turned back to Damon. "That Mexican place you took me to in Roanoke was really good. How about Mexican?"

With a quick turn of the wheel, Damon pulled over to the curb and slid into a parking spot only a few hundred feet past the taco stand. He put the car in park and turned to look at the three of them, one forearm leaning against the shoulder of his seatback. "I have an idea."

"Oh yeah? Other than eating tacos, you mean?" Jeremy asked sarcastically, but Elena noted he smiled as he said it. Her brother's mood had definitely improved since finally seeing Vickie in person.

Damon ignored him. "How about we grab take-out and I'll drive up by the Hollywood sign? There's a park below it where we can sit and eat and take in the view. What do you guys say?'

Elena's face stretched into a wide grin. "That'd be awesome!"

Jeremy and Matt agreed, and a few minutes later, they were back in the car clutching two large paper-bags of take-out and Damon was programing their new destination into the GPS. Mouth-watering aromas filled the vehicle as they began the slow, winding drive up to the Hollywood Hills where the famous white-lettered sign stood sentinel over the city.

At last, Damon pulled over to the gravel along a curve in the road, parking behind a row of similarly-parked vehicles. Tourists with cameras or phones held high were snapping photos of both the panoramic view of the city below, and the massive Hollywood sign on the edge of the hill above.

Elena walked over to the barrier to take in the sprawling vista spread out before them. Smoke rose from dozens of points over the metropolis, heat waves making the air seem to ripple above the surface of the buildings. Far in the distance, dapples of sunlight reflected off the surface of the ocean, and white ridges capped the waves cresting onto the narrow line of beach that separated city from sea.

"Wow," she breathed. That single word encompassed everything she was feeling.

Damon's arm slid around her waist. "Yep."

She swiveled her chin to look up at him. He was gazing at the view, a wistful gleam in his eyes, and Elena couldn't help wondering what he was thinking.

Before she could ask, Damon seemed to re-gather himself, straightening and turning back toward the road. "The park's over there," he pointed. "Let's go find a good place to sit and eat!"

They found an empty picnic table in the shade of a tall evergreen, dusted off the fallen needles from the seats, and sat down to eat. For a while, none of them spoke, all four chewing thoughtfully as they took in their surroundings: locals strolling with their dogs, tourists snapping photos, hawks and smaller birds calling out as they flew overhead from treetop to treetop. At the play area on the far side of the park children ran around, alternately shrieking with glee or howling in seeming agony. Elena was enraptured by it all.

After lunch, Matt and Jeremy once again opted to walk around and explore to give Damon and Elena some alone time. Although Matt's demeanor had been more upbeat since seeing his sister, it was still some small relief for Elena when the boys strolled away. All she really wanted was to spend as much time as possible with Damon before they were forced to return to reality and certain separation.

Damon gathered up their garbage and deposited it in a nearby trash can before returned to sit down across from her. They sat there quietly with their hands clasped in front of them on the wooden table top, Elena's gaze dancing from the massive white letters mounted high on the hillside above them, to the kids playing on the swings and slides, and then darting back to Damon's face again, scanning it for some inkling to what he was thinking behind those pale blue eyes of his.

Smiling, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Shall we go for a walk, too?"

"Sure." Elena stood as he came around to her side of the table. Damon took her hand in his, and again she thought how natural it felt, just walking hand in hand with the guy she loved. Her chest tightened in another regretful pang. Steeling herself, she pushed aside her sadness and tried to concentrate on the here and now as they made their way back to the road, turning in the opposite direction from where she'd seen the boys wander off.

They walked around the bend and stopped at the wide lookout, sliding into a gap at the wall between several families of Asian tourists. Raising one hand to shield her eyes from the sun's glare, Elena looked over the city sprawled out below them.

For a few moments they just stood there, hip to hip, in silence, Damon's hand resting lightly on top of hers on the ledge.

"My father brought us out here on vacation the summer after Mom died," he said quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on the distant ocean. "My aunt and uncle used to live here, and we always stayed with them. I think Dad thought it would be a good distraction—take our mind off…stuff. You know?"

Though Elena's father hadn't had either the money or the time to take them away and distract them, she understood the idea all too well. "Yeah." She paused, then added, "But it didn't work, did it?"

"Nope. Not in the slightest."

Elena glanced at him again. He still wasn't looking at her. She flipped over the hand that rested beneath his palm and laced her fingers through his.

"All my memories of L.A. were of being here as a family. So being at my aunt and uncles house, or eating at their favorite restaurant, or going to Disneyland—those were all things we'd done with Mom. Visiting those places without her just felt so…" He paused, sighing. "So _wrong_. Her absence was more noticeable than ever. It was _brutal_. I think for Stefan, too. But Dad just didn't seem to get it."

Elena's squeezed his fingers in understanding. Then her brows narrowed slightly as something occurred to her. "So does being here now, with me…?"

At last Damon turned to look her in the eyes. With his free hand, he pushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. A small smile rose to his lips as he said, "Yes. It makes me miss her. For sure. But no, I don't regret bringing you here. Not at all. Thanks to you, I'm making some new, happy memories to help alleviate the old, sad ones."

He leaned in and kissed her, and as he did, a large chunk of her worry seemed to ebb away.

* * *

><p>An hour later, they were back in their room at the hotel. Elena dropped her bag on the floor, and her eyes came to a rest on her knapsack lying in the corner, the edge of her laptop just visible through the gap of the half-closed zipper. <em>Crap<em>! Wasn't she supposed to be working on homework and, if possible, her column as well while out here? She's promised her dad she'd keep on top of everything, and was well aware it was a big part of the reason he'd agreed to let her come.

Sighing, she turned to Damon. "What time did you tell the guys we'd meet them downstairs to head out for dinner?"

"Two hours. I figured we were in no rush to eat again soon." He smirked, coming closer and resting both hands on the curves of her hips. "Why? What did you have in mind?"

Elena braced her palms against his chest and stepped backward out of his grasp. "Not that," she said with a chuckle. Seeing Damon's face fall, she added, "At least not right now. I really should finish up the last of my homework, like I promised Dad. We've been so busy running around I haven't even looked at it once since the day before we left."

He laughed, holding up his hands toward her in submission. "Far be it from me to distract you from your studying. I'll just head down to the gym and work out for an hour or so. That enough time for you?"

"Better give me an hour and a half, okay?"

Damon dragged on a quick-dry t-shirt and a pair of running shorts, then came over to plant a kiss on Elena as she made herself comfortable on the bed with her laptop open in front of her. On his way to the door, he said, "Maybe you'll have time to let me distract you a little when I get back?"

Elena raised her eyes to meet his, an amused little grin stretching her lips. "Count on it."

He winked, and a moment later she heard the click of the door closing behind him.

Kicking her feet in the air as she lay on her stomach, she looked over the files she'd been working on earlier in the week. It didn't take long to realize she was actually further along on her assignment than she'd thought. She managed to complete the rest of it in only about forty-five minutes, and, once done, stood up to stretch, wandering over to the window to take a look outside.

They had a west-facing room, and in the distance Elena could see the blue line of the ocean. The sun was getting lower on the horizon, and the light over the water had warmed to the pale orange she knew would soon darken to pink. It brought to mind the sunset she'd watched with Damon from the Ferris Wheel on the Santa Monica Pier. Though heights tended to make her nervous, she recalled how safe she'd felt snuggled in the warm circle of his arms, his breath tickling her ear, his nose buried in her hair.

Her previous melancholy returned in a rush. Tomorrow they were flying home, and that meant there would be no chance for any other sweet moments like that one. By the time she got to watch another sunset—vanishing below the familiar ridge of the mountains, instead of extinguishing itself in the sea—she and Damon would be over.

Elena wished more than anything that it didn't have to be so, but she wasn't deluding herself into thinking this could last. It couldn't. And it wouldn't. She'd promised she'd tell him if her feelings for him deepened, and though she'd chosen to delay honoring that promise until they returned home, she knew she had to be honest with him. Then that would be it. End of story. Back to being single, back to focusing on her many responsibilities and plans for her future. As she really should be, anyway, she knew. But still. God, ending things with him was going to suck so hard!

With a sigh, she walked back to the bed and flopped down on it. Damon would return in about thirty minutes or so. What was she going to do in the meantime? She pulled her laptop toward her and opened up Miss Lonely Love's inbox. There were six new e-mails waiting; not a lot, but enough that she could scan them over to see if any seemed like a good fit for her column.

The first two questions were very similar to ones she'd answered in the recent past, so she filed them away. The third was from a teen wanting advice about whether or not she should bring a new boyfriend home to meet her strict father. Elena copied and pasted this letter into a Word document and began to type a reply urging the writer to be honest with both the boyfriend and her parents, and encouraging her to allow them to meet.

Just as she had finished up a first draft of her response, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Elena sat up and reached for it.

There was a new text from Jeremy. It read_: Come here._

Her brows narrowed_. Why? _she typed.

A few seconds later, he replied:_ Just get over here. _And then_: Now._

_Coming,_ Elena sent back, frowning. What was going on? Something had clearly happened. Had they heard from Vickie? Maybe she'd changed her mind about coming home with them?

Tucking her phone into the pocket of her hoodie, Elena grabbed her key card and rushed out the door.

* * *

><p>Damon whistled softly to himself as he got off the elevator and strode down the hall to their room. He'd done weight resistance for thirty minutes, ran on the treadmill for another thirty, grabbed a quick shower and now hoped to "distract" Elena with a totally different kind of work out, although one he felt sure would get both their hearts pumping as much if not more than the cardio he'd just done in the gym.<p>

As he pulled the door closed behind him, he called, "Oh E-lay-na… time for a study break."

He got no reply. Walking further into the room, he saw it was empty. He pulled his phone from his pocket to see if she'd texted him, but there were no new messages. _Huh_. He'd been hoping she'd wait for him here, but she must have finished up, grown bored, and gone down to see what the boys were up to.

Damon's gaze fell on her laptop sitting open in the middle of their bed. _That's weird_, he thought with a small frown. It wasn't like Elena to just leave it out like that. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and reached to close the lid, planning to move it safely over to the dresser for her. The sudden movement revived the blackened screen.

He hadn't meant to look. Honestly he hadn't. But there it was, right in front of him. His eyes shot wide; his mouth fell slack in shock.

On the screen was an open document. A letter. And not just any letter. A letter signed _Miss Lonely Love_.

_No fucking way_, he thought at first. _It can't be. It's not possible!_

As he stared at it, something clicked, nearly audible in his brain, and suddenly everything—everything!—made sense. His gut dropped as a deep wave of disappointment rushed over him. It seemed Elena wasn't the girl he'd believed her to be after all. She'd been keeping secrets from him, too.

Just like they all had. Just like his brother.

Just like Katherine.

_God_! So many lies. Why did everyone always have to deceive him? What had he ever done to deserve _any_ of this? His stomach roiled, bile rising. He felt like he was about to puke.

Damon stood, backing away from the bed and the computer, but his eyes remained fixed on the evidence on the screen. It felt like a fire had ignited in his chest and was now rolling out in waves over his entire body until he was in flames from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Sweat began to trickle down his temples and between his shoulder blades.

He was _such_ a fool! Such a massive motherfucking idiot.

Again.

Tearing away his gaze at last, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to breathe, just breathe. Would he never learn his goddamned lesson?

Damon spun on his heels and headed for the door.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** _ Well, seems like the sh*t is about to hit the fan, huh? Sorry again for the delay. I won't bore you with the painful details, but as I said with my last A/N, life has gotten much more complicated/busy recently, making finding time to write a lot more difficult. My apologies. I have relooked at my chapter planning and I think there will be 4 more chapters, give or take. Oh, and I haven't have much time to proofread this, so if you see errors, please feel free to PM me and let me know so I can correct. I'm sure there are a few I missed in my quick scan this morning. Have a great day and pretty please leave me a review telling me your thoughts? Thanks so much. Much love to you all. xo_


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